The last injunction evidently impressed Ellen, for she stopped at once.
Her sister had wiped the grit and the little smear of blood off her
chin, and stood in the doorway holding her hand while one by one the
other carriages drew up and the occupants alighted. Not a word was
spoken till they had all assembled, then the young woman said: "Please
come in and have a cup of tea," and turning on her heel led the way to
the dining-room.

"Joanna," said little Ellen in a loud whisper, "may I take off my hat?"

"No, that you mayn't."

"But the elastic's so tight--it's cutting my chin. Why mayn't I?"

"You can't till the funeral's over."

"It is over. They've put father in the ground."

"It isn't over till we've had tea, and you keep your hat on till it's
over."

For answer Ellen tore off her pork-pie hat and threw it on the floor.
Immediately Joanna had boxed her unprotected ears, and the head of the
procession was involved in an ignominious scuffle. "You pick up that hat
and put it on," said Joanna, "or you shan't have any nice tea." "You're
a beast! You're a brute," cried Ellen, weeping loudly. Behind them stood
two rows of respectable marsh-dwellers, gazing solemnly ahead as if the
funeral service were still in progress. In their hearts they were
thinking that it was just like Joanna Godden to have a terrification
like this when folk were expected to be serious. In the end Joanna