"Yes," assented Lucy. "And there's Hewitt--and Sir Karl's agent--and a mourner with her face hidden. Who is it that is being buried, Theresa?"
"Why, it's only the old gardener at the Maze. As to Hewitt, I suppose he had to go to keep the woman in countenance. The old man was her husband, you know."
"But what should bring Sir Karl there?"
"And standing first, as though he were chief mourner!" commented Miss Blake, devouring the scene with her condemning eyes, and giving the reins to her thoughts. "I don't know why he is there, Lucy. There are several things that I have not attempted to understand for some time past."
"Is not that the part of the churchyard where the Andinnians lie?-- where their vault is?"
"It is. But Hopley is being buried there, you see: and that infant, that you know of, was buried there. The clerk is in a fine way over it, people say: but Sir Karl ruled that it should be so."
Thoughts connected with Mrs. Grey, and the inexplicable manner in which Sir Karl seemed to yield to her humours, even to the honouring of her servants, flashed into Lucy's brain. It did not tend to appease her previous anger against him.
"Why could not Sir Karl come for me to-day, Theresa?"
"It is of no use to ask me, Lucy. Sir Karl does not explain his motives to me. This funeral perhaps kept him," added Miss Blake, sarcastically, unconscious how very near she was to the truth. "After you left he seemed almost to live at the Maze. Last week he was there, as I believe, for a whole day and a whole night. I must speak, Lucy. Out of regard to decency that girl ought to quit the Maze, or you quit Foxwood."
"Drive on," cried Lucy to the coachman, in a tone as though the world and all things in it were grating on her. And the man did not dare to disobey the sharp command.