The clumsy wheels of several old-fashioned coaches were heard, and the
gentlemen and ladies composing the bridal-party came through the
church door with the sudden and gladsome effect of a burst of
sunshine. The whole group, except the principal figure, was made up of
youth and gayety. As they streamed up the broad aisle, while the pews
and pillars seemed to brighten on either side, their steps were as
buoyant as if they mistook the church for a ball-room and were ready
to dance hand in hand to the altar. So brilliant was the spectacle
that few took notice of a singular phenomenon that had marked its
entrance. At the moment when the bride's foot touched the threshold
the bell swung heavily in the tower above her and sent forth its
deepest knell. The vibrations died away, and returned with prolonged
solemnity as she entered the body of the church.

"Good heavens! What an omen!" whispered a young lady to her lover.

"On my honor," replied the gentleman, "I believe the bell has the good
taste to toll of its own accord. What has she to do with weddings? If
you, dearest Julia, were approaching the altar, the bell would ring
out its merriest peal. It has only a funeral-knell for her."

The bride and most of her company had been too much occupied with the
bustle of entrance to hear the first boding stroke of the bell--or, at
least, to reflect on the singularity of such a welcome to the altar.
They therefore continued to advance with undiminished gayety. The
gorgeous dresses of the time--the crimson velvet coats, the gold-laced
hats, the hoop-petticoats, the silk, satin, brocade and embroidery,
the buckles, canes and swords, all displayed to the best advantage on
persons suited to such finery--made the group appear more like a