“Yes, darling, this is the Hetherton lot. It has been left to run down this many a year, but will look better by and by. Hadn’t you better stay in the carriage? You can if you want to.”
“No, no, oh, no. I must be with father,” Reinette replied, and opening the door herself, she sprang to the ground, and was first at the open grave, where she stood immovable until they began to lower the body. Then she exclaimed:
“Oh, are there no flowers for him? Did no one bring a flower, when he loved them so much?” and her eyes flashed rebukingly upon those who had brought no flowers for the dead man.
Then she was quiet again until there was a creaking sound in the ropes and the coffin slipped a little, when, with a cry of alarm, she sprang forward and bent over the grave as if to see that no harm was coming to her father. There was danger in her position, and Phil went quickly to her side, and laying his hand on her shoulder, said to her, very gently:
“Please stand farther back. There is quicksand here, and the earth might crumble.”
She never looked at him, but she stepped backward a few paces and did not move again until the grave was filled, and her father—he who had so longed to come home that he might begin anew and make amends in part for his past life—was hidden forever from sight with all the dark catalogue of his sins unconfessed save as he had whispered them into the ear of the Most High when death sat on his pillow and counted his heart-beats.
Meanwhile Phil, with his usual forethought, had interviewed his grandmother in an aside and suggested to her that as Reinette would undoubtedly prefer going alone with Mr. Beresford to her new home, the ladies should return to town in the carriage of the latter and call on his cousin the following day.
Grandma, whose heart was set upon going to Hetherton Place, where she had not been since she was turned from its door by its enraged master, would have demurred at this arrangement were it not that her heavy crape was weighing her down, and making her long for the coolness of her own house and her thin “muslin.” As it was, she made no objection, and when it was time to go, she went to Reinette and said:
“Phil thinks you’d ruther be alone the fust night home, and I guess he’s right, so if you’ll excuse your A’nt Liddy, and me and Anny, we’ll come early to-morrow and see you, and have a long talk about your mother. Good-by, and Heaven bless you, child.”
While she was speaking Reinette looked steadily in her face, and something in its expression attracted more than it repelled her. It was a good, kind, honest face, and had seen her mother, and Reinette’s lip quivered as she held out her hand and said: