Alfred de Rosann by G.W.M. Reynolds — page 270: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Alfred de Rosann. 235 in the afternoon, in the presence of Mrs. Clayton, her brother-in- law, the mayor, the notary, and a few friends invited to witness the performance of the ceremony. They then proceeded to the Church of Saint Hyacinth or the Assumption; and the nuptials were solemnly blessed by the priest in the sight of heaven. Do not imagine, gentle reader that when the holy bands of matrimony were thus tied and consecrated by the civil and re- ligious authorities, according to the excellent laws of France, that the happy bridegroom and his gentle bride hastened to the country to pass their honey-moon alone together. Such is not the custom of the French. They returned to the apartment occupied by the family in the Rue des Pyramides; and in the evening the whole street echoed to the sounds of music and the tread of the dancers. De Rosann and Eloise graced the magnificent ball with their pre- sence ; and atone o’clock in the morning our hero hastily threw a cloak around his bride, conducted her to a carriage, and bore her away to the dwelling he had prepared for her reception in the Rue de Castiglione. Leblond’s promise to our hero was not forgotten. When Louis Philippe was firmly established on the throne, and when amidst his numerous cares he had time to think of the individuals to whom he was indebted for his crown, as France was for her freedom, De Rosann received the Cross of the Legion of Honour, a lucrative and sinecure situation, and a permanent pension. A year after their marriage, Eloise presented her husband with a son and heir: he was called Alfred in honour of his father. In 1833 their union was blessed with a girl, whom they named Eloise. Mrs. Clayton died shortly subsequent to the birth of the little Alfred: and Mr. Clayton then took up his abode with his nephew and niece. Every afternoon, at about three o’clock, he may be seen taking his usual walk in the gardens of the Tuileries. In the even- ing he visits the Opera or the Porte St. Martin, dividing his time and his attention between the music of Rossini or Meyerbeer, and the prose of Pixericourt or Alexander Dumas. He is always the first to purchase the last new novel of Paul de Kock, De Balzac or Georges Sand ; and is a constant subscriber to the Constitutionnel and the Gazette des Tribunaur. He has entirely lost his English tastes and manners, and has imbibed every thing that is French. Even his very hat has a conical shape verging towards a peak, and is curiously curled at the brim. He has only retained his English prejudices. hampignon accidentally heard of our hero’s happy marriage and establishment in Paris, and wrote him a complimentary letter on the occasion. The epistle concluded with a request that De Rosann would interest the government in the gastronomer’s favour, and procure him a full pardon: “ for,” said Champignon in his own language, ‘‘I flutter like a fowl when a Gendarme passes by my door, or enters my shop to purchase a cervelas sans ail.” De Rosann readily complied with the wishes “‘of the best cook in Europe,” and succeeded in bis demand for the indulgence thus pathetically solicited. Champignon was so overjoyed at the event COnicbooolks (GO)