Norbert, too, was going to Paris with his wife; and M.de Puymandour was going about saying that his daughter, the Duchess of Champdoce, would not return to this part of the country for some time to come.
Diana drew a long breath of relief, for it seemed to her as if all the threatening clouds, which had darkened the horizon, were fast breaking up and drifting away.

Her future seemed clear, and she could continue the preparations for her marriage, which was to be celebrated in a fortnight's time; and the friend of Octave who had been asked to act as his best man had answered in the affirmative.
Diana had taken accurate measurement of the love that Octave lavished upon her, and did her utmost to increase it.

She had another cruel idea, and that was that the bewitching manner which she had assumed towards her betrothed was excellent practice, and by it she might judge of her future success in society when she resided in Paris.

Octave was utterly conquered, as any other man would have been under similar circumstances.
Upon the day of her wedding she was dazzling in her beauty, and her face was radiant with happiness; but it was a mere mask, which she had put on to conceal her real feelings.

She knew that many curious eyes were fixed on her as she left the chapel; and the crowd formed a line for her to pass through.