"I should ask you in to breakfast; but I am afraid you ought not to stay here any longer," added the hotel-keeper. "It is nine o'clock now, and you will be late."
"Late? Late for what?" asked Dory, astonished at this remark, which he could not comprehend.
"Late for the funeral," replied the landlord in a subdued and gentle tone.
"The funeral? What funeral?" asked Dory, with his heart in his throat.
The landlord looked at him in silence for a moment, and appeared to be greatly surprised.
"Didn't you know there was to be a funeral in Burlington this afternoon, Dory?" inquired the landlord, almost holding his breath.
"I didn't know any thing about a funeral," answered Dory, trembling with emotion.
"You haven't heard the news? Didn't you know that one of your family was"—And the hotel-keeper paused, afraid of the effect of the sudden imparting of the information to the boy.
"My mother isn't dead, is she?" gasped Dory, clinging to the office-counter for support.
"No, she is not. But another member of your family is to be buried to-day," added the landlord.