He paused. Fanny looked delightedly in his face. “You were praising me--you! And what is a pity, brother?” While she spoke, the sound of the joy-bells was heard near at hand. “Hark!” said Vaudemont, forgetting her question--and almost gaily--“Hark!--I accept the omen. It is a marriage peal!” He quickened his steps, and they reached the churchyard. There was a crowd already assembled, and Vaudemont and Fanny paused; and, leaning over the little gate, looked on. “Why are these people here, and why does the bell ring so merrily?” “There is to be a wedding, Fanny.” “I have heard of a wedding very often,” said Fanny, with a pretty look of puzzlement and doubt, “but I don’t know exactly what it means. Will you tell me?--and the bells, too!” “Yes, Fanny, those bells toll but three times for man! The first time, when he comes into the world; the last time, when he leaves it; the time between when he takes to his side a partner in all the sorrows--in all the joys that yet remain to him; and who, even when the last bell announces his death to this earth, may yet, for ever and ever, be his partner in that world to come--that heaven, where they who are as innocent as you, Fanny, may hope to live and to love each other in a land in which there are no graves!” “And this bell?” “Tolls for that partnership--for the wedding!” “I think I understand you;--and they who are to be wed are happy?” “Happy, Fanny, if they love, and their love continue. Oh! conceive the happiness to know some one person dearer to you than your own self--some one breast into which you can pour every thought, every grief, every joy! One person, who, if all the rest of the world were to calumniate or forsake you, would never wrong you by a harsh thought or an unjust word,--who would cling to you the closer in sickness, in poverty, in care,--who would sacrifice all things to you, and for whom you would sacrifice all--from whom, except by death, night or day, you must be never divided--whose smile is ever at your hearth--who has no tears while you are well and happy, and your love the same. Fanny, such is marriage, if they who marry have hearts and souls to feel that there is no bond on earth so tender and so sublime. There is an opposite picture;--I will not draw that! And as it is, Fanny, you cannot understand me!” He turned away:--and Fanny’s tears were falling like rain upon the grass below;--he did not see them! He entered the churchyard; for the bell now ceased. The ceremony was to begin. He followed the bridal party into the church, and Fanny, lowering her veil, crept after him, awed and trembling. They stood, unobserved, at a little distance, and heard the service.