“Let us pray,” said Miss Proudleigh when the clock had ceased to strike.
This time she prayed that all wandering spirits might find eternal rest, and that the dead might never be allowed to intervene in the affairs of the living. She made it known to all and sundry whose place was another world that, however much their company may have been pleasant and interesting when they were alive, the proper sphere for their activities now was heaven, where, she indirectly assured them, they would be far more happy than if they returned to earth. This prayer closed with a loud Amen from the assembled guests, who entirely shared the sentiments expressed by Miss Proudleigh. “Well, we are done wid poor Mackenzie now,” she said, satisfied, as she rose from her knees.
Mr. Proudleigh, with his undelivered speech still in mind, understood from these words that the end of that speech would never be heard by that audience. He felt that an advantage had been taken of him, and his bitterness was intense.
It was a relief to the younger guests and members of the family when Miss Proudleigh signified that the religious portion of the Ninth Night ceremony was over, and Mackenzie finally dismissed to his last home. In a moment their emotions changed from grave to gay, and they all settled themselves down to gossip, joke, laugh, and otherwise enjoy themselves, while more refreshments were handed round. Every one present addressed Susan punctiliously as Mrs. Mackenzie. Jones still sat by her side, and his gestures and movements were marked by the company, whose chief diversion was to discuss the private affairs of their neighbours and friends.
“We can’t always mourn,” sententiously observed one young lady, who saw in Samuel a suitor for Susan’s hand, and who wished to gain merit by indirectly suggesting that she personally knew of no reason for unlimited grief. “Life is short, an’ when we ’ave done our best, we must do what we can.”
An enigmatical speech, but well understood by those who heard it, and who saw the significant glance which the speaker directed towards Susan and Jones.
“Sorrow endureth for a night, but joy cometh in the morning,” commented Miss Proudleigh. “Sue, will you take a little ginger-wine? Or do you prefer chocolate?”
“She prefer love,” said Jones shamelessly. “Love is better than wine.”
“Behave you’self!” cried Susan. “Y’u forget where you are?”