of velvets, of
silks and satins, a flood of precious stones--diamonds worthy a Queen.
But that which excited the people more than all else was the great
amount given in charity, the bride having wished to distribute to
the poor as much as she had received herself. So another million was
showered down upon the country in a rain of gold. At length she was able
to gratify all her old longings of benevolence, all the prodigalities
of her most exaggerated dreams, as with open hands she let fall upon the
wretched and needy a stream of riches, an overflow of comforts. In her
little, white, bare chamber, confined to her old armchair, she laughed
with delight when the Abbe Cornille brought to her the list of the
distributions he had made. "Give more! Give more!" she cried, as it
seemed to her as if not enough were done. She would, in reality, have
liked to have seen the Pere Mascart seated for ever at a table before
a princely banquet; the Chouteaux living in palatial luxury; the _mere_
Gabet cured of her rheumatism, and by the aid of money to have renewed
her youth. As for the Lemballeuse, the mother and daughters, she
absolutely wished to load them with silk dresses and jewellery. The hail
of golden pieces redoubled over the town as in fairy-tales, far beyond
the daily necessities, as if merely for the beauty and joy of seeing the
triumphal golden glory, thrown from full hands, falling into the street
and glittering in the great sunlight of charity.

At last, on the eve of the happy day, everything was in readiness.
Felicien had bought a large house on the Rue Magloire, at the back
of the Bishop's palace, which had been fitted up and furnished most
luxuriously. There were great rooms hung with admirable tapestries,
filled with the most beautiful articles imaginable; a salon in old, rare
pieces of hand embroidery; a boudoir in blue, soft as the early morning
sky; and a sleeping-room, which was particularly attractive: a perfect
little corner of white silk and lace--nothing, in short, but white,
airy, and light--an exquisite shimmering of purity. But Angelique had
constantly refused to go to see all these wonderful things, although
a carriage was always ready to convey her there. She listened to the
recital of that which had been done with an enchanted smile, but she
gave no orders, and did not appear to wish to occupy herself with any of
the arrangements. "No, no," she said, for all these things seemed so far
away in the unknow