Flower had begun to shape the mound, and Madam Carroll still waited. Seeing this, several persons came back, and a little group gathered.
"Ah, well, poor friendless young man, his life here is over," said Mrs. Greer. "It is not quite straight, Flower; if you come here and look, you can see for yourself."
"I suppose he was a foreigner," said Miss Sophy; "he looked like one. Didn't you say that you thought he was a foreigner, Madam Carroll?"
"He came from Martinique," answered the Major's wife; "he had lived there, I believe, or on one of the neighboring islands, almost all his life."
"Well, I call that foreign; I call all the West India Islands very foreign," said Miss Sophy. "They don't seem to me civilized. They are principally inhabited by blacks."
"It was so sad that he had no money," remarked Mrs. Rendlesham. "We never dreamed of that, you know. Though I remember now that his clothes, when you came to really look at them, were a little—a little worn, perhaps."
"They were shabby," said Miss Corinna, not with unkindness, but simply as historian.
"Is it true, Madam Carroll, that he was a Baptist?" asked Miss Bolt, thoughtfully looking at the mound.
"The Walleys are Baptists, you know," answered the lady of the Farms. "They had their pastor there several times, and on the last day Mrs. Walley was sure that Mr.—Mr. Dupont was conscious, and that he joined in their prayers, and assented to what was said."
"I don't believe he was anything—I mean, anything in particular," said Mrs. General Hibbard, decisively. "He hadn't that air."