When all was ended and only old William Baggs stood by the grave and
watched the sextons fill it, a small company walked together up the hill
north of Bridetown. Daniel went first with Mr. Churchouse, and behind
them followed Miss Jenny Ironsyde with a man and a child. The man rented
North Hill House. Arthur Waldron was a widower, who lived now for two
things: his little daughter, Estelle, and sport. No other considerations
challenged his mind. He was rich and good-hearted. He knew that his
little girl had brains, and he dealt fairly with her in the matter of
education.

Of the Ironsyde brothers, Raymond was his personal friend, and Mr.
Waldron now permitted himself some vague expression of regret that the
young man should have been absent on such an occasion.

"Yes," said Miss Ironsyde, to whom he spoke, "if there's any excuse for
convention it's at a funeral. No doubt people will magnify the incident
into a scandal--for their own amusement and the amusement of their
friends. If Raymond had enjoyed time to reflect, I feel sure he would
have come; but there was no time. His father has made no provision for
him, and he is rather upset. It is not unnatural that he should be, for
dear Henry, while always very impatient of Raymond's sporting tastes and
so on, never threatened anything like this."

"No doubt Mr. Ironsyde would have made a difference if he had not died
so suddenly."

"I think so too," she answered.

Then Waldron and his daughter went homewards; while the others, turning