Then came the prayer and hymn, to be succeeded by a heavy, solemn pause, and Mr. Williamson stepped to the front of the platform-.
“All those who care to view the remains—and I presume there are many here who will wish to look upon the face of our dead friend before it is conveyed to its final resting-place—will please form in line at the rear of the edifice and advance quietly up the right aisle, passing across the church as quickly as possible and thence down the left aisle and on out through the door. This will prevent confusion and make it much pleasanter for all.”
There was a rustle of skirts and the awkward shuffling of many feet as the congregation formed in line; then it filed slowly up the aisle to where Chris Berry stood, weazened and dry, with a vulture look on his face and a vulture touch to his hands that now and again picked at the flowers which were banked about the coffin.
The Emorys, partly out of regard for public sentiment, had attended the funeral, for, as the doctor said, they were the only real friends Griff had in the town. They had known and liked him when the rest of Antioch was dubiously critical of the new-comer, whose ways were not its ways.
When the congregation thronged up the aisle, Constance, who had endured the long service, which to her was unspeakably grotesque and horrible, in shocked if silent rebellion slipped her hand into her mother's. “Take me away,” she whispered, brokenly, “or I shall cry out! Take me away!”
Mrs. Emory hesitated. It seemed a desertion of a trust to go and leave Griff to these strangers, who had been brought there by morbid curiosity. Constance guessed what was passing in her mind.
“Papa will remain if it is necessary.”
Mrs. Emory touched the doctor on the shoulder. “We're going home, John; Constance doesn't feel well; but you stay.”
When they reached the street the last vestige of Constance's self-control vanished utterly. “Wasn't it awful!” she sobbed, “and his life had only just begun! And to be snuffed out like this, when there was everything to live for!”
Mrs. Emory, surprised at the sudden show of feeling, looked into her daughter's face. Constance understood the look.