Here, in the calm peace of the churchyard, they rest side by side, rich and poor, high and low, all alike before the majesty of death.

All that is perishable on earth is swept aside like a used garment.

Six feet of earth, that is all; it is the same for each one of us." The gentle spring breeze breathed on the silk banners of the various guilds, lifting the heavy folds out from the staff, and making a glad rustle in the silk.

And the same breeze also carried the words over the cemetery, to the old crones who were sitting on the tombstones, and the girls and women who were grouped along the slope.

Yes, even to the far distant edge of the cemetery did the wind bear the eloquent discourse, so that the words could be distinctly heard at the grave in which Marianne was about to be laid.