The new lake with its forty miles of shore line would obliterate no villages and few burial places. But one of these few was the RoBards’ plot and Keith trembled to think that when the house came down and the cellar walls were removed piecemeal, the bones of Jud Lasher would be disclosed.
He dared not speak even to Immy of the secret in the walls. He could only stand aside and mourn the felling of the great tree-steeples.
He and Immy watched the wrecking crew demolishing the house, throwing the chimneys down, tearing off the roof and opening the attic to the sun. Then the ceiling went and the floors of the bedrooms where their bare feet had toddled.
At last the house was gone, all but the main floor, and from that stairways went up to nowhere.
After the wrecking crew had left off work for the day, Keith and Immy wandered one evening through the place where the house once was, and poked about the débris on the library floor. They noted the hearthstone of white marble.
They had seen to the removal of the graves before the tulip trees came down. The family had been transported to the increasing city of the dead at Kensico, but they were still debating what monument to rear. One little coffin was found there which Keith could not account for.
That was Immy’s secret and she kept it, though it ached in her old heart, remembering the wild romance of her youth. A blush slipped through her wrinkles and the shame was almost pleasant at this distance.
Now that she and Keith stared at the white marble hearthstone, they were both inspired by a single thought.
“Let’s use that for a headstone in the family lot in Kensico!” Immy said and Keith agreed.
They were proud of the felicity of their inspiration and hiring laborers, stole the slab that very night and carried it over to the graveyard, and saw to its establishing.