ast 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.

The betrothed were of the middle class of life, young, both comely; and
their behaviour was such as suited the reverence and sanctity of the
rite. Vaudemont stood looking on intently, with his arms folded on his
breast. Fanny leant behind him, and apart from all, against one of the
pews. And still in her hand, while the priest was solemnising
Marriage, she held the flowers intended for the Grave. Even to that
MORNING--hushed, calm, earliest, with her mysterious and unconjectured
heart--her shape brought a thought of NIGHT!

When the ceremony was over--when the bride fell on her mother's breast
and wept; and then, wh