f the
infuriated dogs at that shadow which did not exist.

General Vogotzine, in a handsome uniform, half suffocated in his high
vest, and with a row of crosses upon his breast--the military cross of
St. George, with its red and black ribbon; the cross of St. Anne, with
its red ribbon; all possible crosses--was the first to knock at his
niece's door, his sabre trailing upon the floor.

"Who is it?" said Marsa.

"I, Vogotzine."

And, permission being given him, he entered the room.

The old soldier walked about his niece, pulling his moustache, as if
he were conducting an inspection. He found Marsa charming. Pale as her
white robe, with Tizsa's opal agraffe at her side, ready to clasp the
bouquet of flowers held by one of her maids, she had never been so
exquisitely beautiful; and Vogotzine, who was rather a poor hand at
turning a compliment, compared her to a marble statue.

"How gallant you are this morning, General," she said, her heart
bursting with emotion.

She waved away, with a brusque gesture, the orange-flowers which her
maid was about to attach to her corsage.

"No," she said. "Not that! Roses."

"But, Mademoiselle--"

"Roses," repeated Marsa. "And for my hair white rosebuds also."

At this, the old General risked another speech.

"Do you think orange-blossoms are too vulgar, Marsa? By Jove! They don't
grow in the ditches, though!"

And he laughed loudly at what he considered wit. But a frowning
glance from the Tzigana cut short his hilarity; and, with a mechanical
movement, he drew himself up in a military manner, as if the Czar were
passing by.

"I will leave you to finish dressing, my dear," he said, after a moment.

He already felt stifled in the uniform, which he was no longer
accustomed to wear, and he went out in the garden to breathe freer.
While waiting there for Zilah, he ordered some cherry cordial,
muttering, as he drank it:

"It is beautiful August weather. They will have a fine day; but I shall
suffocate!"

The avenue was already filled with people. The marriage had been much
discussed, both in the fashionable colony which inhabited the park
and in the village forming the democratic part of the place; even from
Sartrouville and Mesnil, people had come to see the Tzigana pass in her
bridal robes.

"What is all that noise?" demanded Vogotzine of the liveried footman.

"That noise, General? The inhabitants of Maisons who have come to see
the wedding procession."

"Really?