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They carried his coffin, while his wife and children walked beside him to the cemetery, and he was buried near the little church of Chailly, whose spire is seen in "The Angelas," and where Rousseau, whom he loved, had already been laid. There in Barbizon, to-day, may be seen Rousseau's cottage and Millet's studio.
Who knows the Past? and who can judge us right?" The sweet-tongued convent bell had rung the Angelas, and all within the cloistered courts was hushed, save the low monologue of the fountain whose minor murmuring made solemn accord with the sacred harmonious repose of its surroundings.
"How do you know?" "Sort of instinct." "The worst of it is, I believe you're right." "Of course I am. That settles it. Now, what was your next idea?" "'Angela." "'Angelas," said Miss Middleton, "are ALWAYS fair." "Why do you want all the names to yourself? You say everything's fair." "Why can you only think of names beginning with 'A'? Try another letter." "Suppose YOU try now."
He strode out of the room angrily and fiercely, but nevertheless, when he reached it, he sat in his own room, which was on the other side of the studio from Angelas, and did not sleep. His mind was on fire with the thought of Suzanne; he thought of the old order which had been so quickly and so terribly broken. Now, if he could remain master, and he could, he proposed to take Suzanne.
"That's all right about the fine, old, chivalrous spirit of the Glossops. Where is the sweet, gentle, womanly spirit of the Angelas? Telling a fellow he was getting a double chin!" "Did she do that?" "She did." "Oh, well, girls will be girls. Forget it, Tuppy. Go to her and make it up." He shook his head. "No. It is too late.
It was in this sense that the mystic Angelas Silesius declared that God could not live for a moment without him, and that if he were to be annihilated God must of necessity give up the ghost: Ich weiss dass ohne mich Gott nicht ein Nu kann leben; Werd' ich zunicht, er muss von Noth den Geist aufgeben.
At mid-day the bell, which had not rung since early dawn, began to swing quickly to and fro in the chapel turret, the deep bass of the organ breathed on the silence a thunderous monotone, and a bee-like murmur of distant voices proclaimed the words: "Angelas Domine nuntiavit Mariae"
And when these consecrated bells chimed out the Angelas at the sunset hour, with the sound of their voices all evil spirits were driven away, and no harm could come to man or beast or growing grain. "Bells of the past, whose long-forgotten music Still fills the wide expanse, Tingeing the sober twilight of the present With color of romance;
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