"She waked up all in a rave of light-headedness!
"I thought I should never get over it, Ray. And I never did, way down in my heart; but I got back into the same wretched nonsense, and now—here's mother!
"It's no use to tell me. I've done it. I've lost my right. It'll never be given back to me."
"Marion—I wish you could have Mr. Vireo to talk to you; or Luclarion Grapp. Won't you come home with me, and let them come to see you? They know about these things, dear."
"Would you take me home?" asked Marion, slowly, looking her in the face.
"Yes, indeed. Will you come?"
"O, do take me and hide me away, and let me cry!"
She dropped herself, as it were passively, into Rachel Ingraham's hands. She could not stay among the neighbors, she said. She could not stay in that house alone, one day.
Ray stayed with her, until after the funeral.
Marion would not go to the church. She had let them decide everything just as they pleased, thinking only that she could not think about any of it. Mrs. Kent had been a faithful, humble church-member for forty years, and the minister and her fellow-members wanted her to be brought there. There was no room in the little half-house, where she had lived, for neighbors and friends to gather, and for the services properly to take place.