"Why, my goodness! you do not mean to say you are pretending to be sorry for this rude—miser!" cried Mrs. Frederic, with uplifted hand and eyes.
"Personally I did not care about him, but, Ada, death demands respect."
"Oh yes, of course. Then there is absolutely nothing to do or to hear."
"Nothing," said Katherine, rather shortly.
"Could I go out and buy anything for you? Surely the executors, whoever they may be, will give you some money for mourning?"
"I do not think it at all likely. I will tell you what you can do, Ada: go to my large cupboard and bring me," etc., etc.—sundry directions followed. "Katherine and I can quite well do all that is necessary ourselves to make a proper appearance on Friday."
"Very well; and I will come to the funeral too, and bring the boys. A little crape on their caps and sleeves will be quite enough. They will produce a great effect. I dare say if I speak to Mrs. Burnett's friend, that newspaper man, he will put an account into the Morning News, with all our names. Whatever comes, it would have a good effect."
"Of course you can come if you like, Ada, but I would not bring the boys. Children are out of place except at a parent's grave."
"Well, I do not agree with you, and I do not think you need grudge my poor children that much recognition."
"Poor darlings! Do you believe we could grudge them anything that was good for them?" cried Katherine.