"Very well. You shall see Bessie. I have some business with the sexton."
Then he withdrew his hand from the old woman, and went to the grave of Richard Malvine, where he gave directions what was to be done to that and the headpiece. Widow Penwarne came to him.
"What is this?" she asked. "What have you to do with this grave?"
"I have some orders to give concerning it," answered Anthony, vexed at her interference. "I will speak with you later, madam."
"But what does the grave of Richard Malvine matter to you?" again she asked. "Ah!" she exclaimed, and went and picked some of the primroses from the mound over her daughter, and then strewed them over the grave of Richard, "Ah!" she said. "Here lie two whose hearts were broken by your father—two for whom he will have to answer at the Judgment Day, and then I will stand up along with them, and point the finger at him, and accuse him. If there be a righteous God, then as He is righteous so will He judge and punish!"
"Why, well, now, is not this strange?" exclaimed Anthony. "Here comes my sister Elizabeth. I wonder much what has brought her."
Bessie appeared, with a wreath of spring flowers in her hand. She had ridden, attended by a serving-man. She was surprised and pleased to see Anthony at Richard Malvine's grave.
"Oh, brother!" she said, "I have been so troubled over what has been done that I set to work to make a garland to hang on the grave, as some token of respect, and regret for what had been done."
"What, you also!" exclaimed the old woman, and went to her and clasped her hands. "You are Bessie Cleverdon, the dear child of my Margaret. Let me kiss you, ay, and bless you." She drew the head of Elizabeth to her and kissed her.
"This is our grandmother, Bessie," exclaimed Anthony.