Rousing himself and lifting his head, he sang again in full-voiced fervour the hymn he was singing as they left the village:-- ...

Adorons-le dans le ciel.
Adorons-le sur l'autel ...
Then he fell silent, his chin dropping slowly toward his breast, and the only sound upon the road was the tinkle of sleigh-bells.
Maria was thinking of the priest's words: "If there was affection between you it is very proper that you should know regret.

But you were not pledged to one another, because neither you nor he had spoken to your parents; therefore it is not befitting or right that you should sorrow thus, nor feel so deep a grief for a young man who, after all is said, was nothing to you..." And again: "That masses should be sung, that you should pray for him, such things are useful and good, you could do no better.

Three high masses with music, and three more when the boys return from the woods, as your father has asked me, most assuredly these will help him, and also you may be certain they will delight him more than your lamentations, since they will shorten by so much his time of expiation.

But to grieve like this, and to go about casting gloom over the household is not well, nor is it pleasing in the sight of God." He did not appear in the guise of a comforter, nor of one who gives counsel in the secret affairs of the heart, but rather as a man of the law or a chemist who enunciates his bald formulas, invariable and unfailing.
"The duty of a girl like you--good-looking, healthy, active withal and a clever housewife--is in the first place to help her old parents, and in good time to marry and bring up a Christian family of her own.