"
Then, with a comical semblance of authority, she disposed her people in
the order which she had planned in her mind a week previously. And the
procession set off through the admiring village, amid the smiles of all
the good women hastening to their doorsteps, and then spread out along
the white road between the fertile fields, where bands of startled larks
took wing, carrying their clear song to the heavens. It was really
magnificent.
At the head of the party were Rose and Frederic, side by side on their
bicycles, opening the nuptial march with majestic amplitude. Behind them
followed the three maids of honor, the younger sisters, Louise,
Madeleine, and Marguerite, the tallest first, the shortest last, and each
on a wheel proportioned to her growth. And with berets* on their heads,
and their hair down their backs, waving in the breeze, they looked
adorable, suggesting a flight of messenger swallows skimming over the
ground and bearing good tidings onward. As for Gregoire the page, restive
and always ready to bolt, he did not behave very well; for he actually
tried to pass the royal couple at the head of the procession, a
proceeding which brought him various severe admonitions until he fell
back, as duty demanded, to his deferential and modest post.
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