"Gay braveries for me,
while my Friedel is not yet in his resting-place? Here--the black
velvet cloak."
"Alas, Ebbo! it makes thee look more of a corpse than a bridegroom.
Thou wilt scare thy poor little spouse. Ah! it was not thus I had
fancied myself decking thee for thy wedding."
"Poor little one!" said Ebbo. "If, as your uncle says, mourning is
the seed of joy, this bridal should prove a gladsome one! But let
her prove a loving child to you, and honour my Friedel's memory, then
shall I love her well. Do not fear, motherling; with the roots of
hatred and jealousy taken out of the heart, even sorrow is such peace
that it is almost joy."
It was over early for pain and sorrow to have taught that lesson,
thought the mother, as with tender tears she gave place to the
priest, who was to begin the solemnities of the day by shriving the
young Baron. It was Father Norbert, who had in this very chamber
baptized the brothers, while their grandmother was plotting the
destruction of their godfather, even while he gave Friedmund his name
of peace,--Father Norbert, who had from the very first encouraged the
drooping, heart-stricken, solitary Christina not to be overcome of
evil, but to overcome evil with good.
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