He was to be laid in the family vault adjoining the church of Golden Friars; a stone with the family arms, and a short inscription, "but no flatteries," was to be set up in the church, on the south wall, next the vault, and near the other family monuments, and it was to mention that he died unmarried, and was the last of the old name of Rokestone, of Dorracleugh.
The funeral was to proceed to Golden Friars, not by the "mere road," but, as in the case of other family funerals, from Dorracleugh to Golden Friars, by the old high-road.
If he should die at home, at Dorracleugh, but not otherwise, he was to be "waked" in the same manner as his father and his grandfather had been.
There were other directions, presents to the sexton and parish-clerk, and details that would weary you.
About twelve o'clock the hearse arrived, and two or three minutes after Mr. Blount drove up in a chaise.
The almost gigantic coffin was carried up the steps, and placed under the broad canopy assigned to it at the upper end of the hall.
Mr. Blount, having given a few directions, inquired for Mr. Marston, and found that gentleman, in a suit of black, in the drawing-room.
He came forward; he did not intend it, but there was something in the gracious and stately melancholy of his reception, which seemed to indicate not only the chief mourner, but the master of the house.
"Altered circumstances—a great change," said Mr. Marston, taking his hand. "Many will feel his death deeply. He was to me—I have said it a thousand times—the best friend that ever man had."
"Yes, yes, sir; he did show wonderful patience and forbearance with you, considering his temper, which was proud and fiery, you know—poor gentleman!—poor Sir Harry!—but grandly generous, sir, grandly generous."