A momentary shadow passed over his face.
“Ay. It seems strange to us. There is only one thing sure—His time is best.”
Then Elizabeth sent her love to Mrs Fleming and to Katie, and her mother, and then she touched with her lips the old man’s furrowed cheek, and some who saw him leave his old friend’s house could not but wonder at the peaceful brightness of his face that day.
There was another day of watching and waiting, and then a few days of silence in the darkened house, and then the old squire was laid in his grave with such marks of honour as his fellow-townsmen could give. People from other towns, and from all the country round, came to Gershom that day, and many a kindly word was spoken of the dead, and many a tale told of good deeds done in secret, of friendly help and counsel given in time of need, and all agreed that a good man and true had gone to his rest from among them, and that not many like him were left behind.
And though all that great multitude could not see the open grave and Elizabeth and Clifton and Jacob at the head, and Betsey and her mother and Ben and all the rest standing near, no man left Gershom that day who had not heard how, when the first clods fell on the coffin-lid, and Jacob shuddered and grew white as death, old David Fleming, one of the bearers, went forward and gave him his arm to lean upon till the grave was filled and the last word spoken. Of course these strangers did not know all that this implied to both these men, but every one in Gershom knew and was glad for them both.
And then when all was over, and Mr Maxwell, in a voice that was not quite firm, had, in the name of the mourners, thanked the assembled friends for their presence and sympathy on the solemn occasion, Elizabeth and Clifton and Jacob went home with the feeling strong upon them that the old life was at an end forever, and it was truer for them all than either of them knew.