sounded louder than that of Faller when he joined in the hymn,
after the ceremony was over. The leader of the choir made him a sign to
moderate his deep bass voice, for the tenor was very weak, and Lenz's
voice was wanting; but Faller utterly refused to suppress his tones,
which fairly overpowered both the organ and his fellow-singers, in the
hymn, "Oh Lord, bless this bond!"

When the wedding was over, the women who were so fortunate as to see
and hear the ceremony, had plenty to talk about when they left the
church. Never before had the bridegroom been heard sobbing audibly; no
man had ever done such a thing till now. To be sure, the Pastor had
spoken in a most touching way, especially when he had alluded to Lenz's
mother, and implored her blessing, which had caused Lenz to sob so
violently that they really thought he must have fallen down, and all
present had cried along with him; indeed, those who were talking of it
had cried too; they had come to attend the marriage, and had a right to
have a share of all that was going, whether it was crying or rejoicing.
The men said to the strangers present--"No other village can have a
more admirable Pastor than ours! His words come out so smoothly and
glibly, and not stiff or precise; just as if he wished to discuss the
matter quietly with us all. Oh, yes! our Pastor! few like him!"

Neither men nor women made any allusion, however, to the matter of the
exhortation.

When Lenz left the church, escorted on one side by Petrowitsch, and on
the other by the Landlord, Faller's mother came up to him, and said, "I
have done what I intended--your mother's clothes have been in the
church, and she could not have prayed from her heart for you more
earnestly than I did."

Lenz could not answer, for the Landlord reproved the old woman for
being the first to speak to the bridegroom,--although he condemned the
foolish superstition, that saw an evil omen in being addressed by an
old woman first; but, however, he called forward a handsome young lad
to give Lenz his hand first.

From this moment, however, all was gaiety and merriment. It was not
easy to believe that any one present had shed a single tear.

Lenz now shook hands with his sisters-in-law, and then with their
husbands, in the back parlour. The Doctor, too, and his daughters
came,--and very kind it was in them to come,--one after another came in
and went out, wishing the young couple joy; while Annele sat in a
chair, with a wh