even after death?"

"Certainly she must, darling. Marriage is for time and for eternity.
Do you not know the history of a young pair who loved each other in the
province of Auvergne? They died almost at the same time, and were placed
in two tombs separated by a road. But every night a sweetbrier bush
threw from one tomb to the other its flowery branches. The two coffins
had to be buried together."

When they had passed the Badia, they saw a procession coming up the side
of the hill. The wind blew on the candles borne in gilded wooden
candlesticks. The girls of the societies, dressed in white and blue,
carried painted banners. Then came a little St. John, blond, curly-
haired, nude, under a lamb's fleece which showed his arms and shoulders;
and a St. Mary Magdalene, seven years old, crowned only with her waving
golden hair. The people of Fiesole followed. Countess Martin recognized
Choulette among them. With a candle in one hand, a book in the other,
and blue spectacles on the end of his nose, he was singing. His unkempt
beard moved up and down with the rhythm of the song. In the harshness of
light and shade that worked in his face, he had an air that suggested a
solitary monk capable of accomplishing a century of penance.

"How amusing he is!" said Therese. "He is making a spectacle of himself
for himself. He is a great artist."

"Darling, why will you insist that Monsieur Choulette is not a pious man?
Why? There is much joy and much beauty in faith. Poets know this. If
Monsieur Choulette had not faith, he could not write the admirable verses
that he does."