Indeed everything had gone well
and smoothly, almost better than expected. The only thing to be
regretted was that Bertha and Hertha had sobbed so violently that
Jahnke's Low German verses had been virtually lost. But even that had
made but little difference. A few fine connoisseurs had even expressed
the opinion that, "to tell the truth, forgetting what to say, sobbing,
and unintelligibility, together form the standard under which the most
decided victories are won, particularly in the case of pretty, curly
red heads." Cousin von Briest had won a signal triumph in his
self-composed role. He had appeared as one of Demuth's clerks, who had
found out that the young bride was planning to go to Italy immediately
after the wedding, for which reason he wished to deliver to her a
traveling trunk. This trunk proved, of course, to be a giant box of
bonbons from Hoevel's. The dancing had continued till three o'clock,
with the effect that Briest, who had been gradually talking himself
into the highest pitch of champagne excitement, had made various
remarks about the torch dance, still in vogue at many courts, and the
remarkable custom of the garter dance. Since these remarks showed no
signs of coming to an end, and kept getting worse and worse, they
finally reached the point where they simply had to be choked off.
"Pull yourself together, Briest," his wife had whispered to him in a
rather earnest tone; "you are not here for the purpose of making
indecent remarks, but of doing the honors of the house.
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