"This morning when we entered the church, at the sound of the organ, in the midst of flowers, surrounded by all our friends, I felt that I was whiter than my veil.

And the crossing to my place seemed so long, I thought I should never get there.
I did so, though.

And now everybody calls me 'Madame' and some call me 'Princess.' It amuses me!" Serge had approached.
"But you are a Princess," said he, smiling, "and everybody must call you so." "Oh, not mamma, nor Jeanne, nor you," said the young wife, quickly; "always call me Micheline.

It will be less respectful, but it will be more tender." Madame Desvarennes could not resist drawing her daughter once more to her heart.
"Dear child," she said with emotion, "you need affection, as flowers need the sun! But I love you, there." She stopped and added: "We love you." And she held out her hand to her son-in-law.

Then changing the subject: "But I am thinking, Cayrol, as you are returning to Paris, you might take some orders for me which I will write out." "What?
Business?
Even on my wedding-day ?" exclaimed Micheline.
"Eh! my daughter, we must have flour," replied the mistress, laughing.
"While we are enjoying ourselves Paris eats, and it has a famous appetite." Micheline, leaving her mother, went to her husband.
"Serge, it is not yet late.