Joseph Fleming was looking longingly towards the grave, but his face was resigned, for the Ancient Mariner had him button-holed securely.
“What are they lingering for so long, I wonder?” cried Lady Engleton impatiently. “Professor Theobald is really too instructive to-day. I will go and hurry him.”
Joseph welcomed her as his deliverer.
“I was merely waiting for you two ladies to move; I would have come on with Mr. Fleming. I am extremely sorry,” said the Professor.
He followed Lady Engleton down the path between the graves, with something of the same set expression that had been on his face when he came up the path of the cottage garden to admire the baby.
“It appears that we were all waiting for each other,” said Lady Engleton.
“This ’ere’s the young woman’s grave, sir—Ellen Jervis—’er as I was a tellin’ you of,” said Dodge, pointing an earth-stained finger at the mound.
“Oh, yes; very nice,” said the Professor vaguely. Hadria’s laugh disconcerted him. “I mean—pretty spot—well chosen—well made.”
Hadria continued to laugh. “I never heard less skilled comment on a grave!” she exclaimed. “It might be a pagoda!”
“It’s not so easy as you seem to imagine to find distinctive epithets. I challenge you. Begin with the pagoda.”