"I shan't. I quite enjoy them."
"Enjoy them? Good Lord, that just shows how fearfully bad they are for you. Enjoying a funeral! I never heard of anything so grizzly."
"It's not a bit grizzly really. If you lived about here, you'd understand. People enjoy them nearly as much as weddings and a lot more than christenings."
"Oh, I see." Ursula cracked a frozen puddle with the point of her walking-stick. "A christening may be a farce and a wedding a fiasco, but you know where you are with a funeral."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Mary calmly.
They had turned from the village street into a path that led up the hill to the church. Ursula took up her tale.
"All the same, I think it's perfectly beastly, making a kind of beanfeast because somebody is going to be shut up in the earth. Do you know, if you don't mind I think I'd rather not go into the churchyard just now—an open grave, it always gives me the shudders. I can wait outside."
"Why, of course. How silly of me not to have thought about it. It doesn't matter. I can go another time. Let's turn down here."
"Here" meant past the School House.
"What a hideous place!" said Ursula.