"Well, we might do that, if it isn't a very religious one,"
conceded Felicity.

"How would 'Pull for the shore, sailor, pull for the shore,' do?"
asked Cecily. "That never seemed to me a very religious hymn."

"But it doesn't seem very appropriate to a funeral occasion
either," said Felicity.

"I think 'Lead, kindly light,' would be ever so much more
suitable," suggested Sara Ray, "and it is kind of soothing and
melancholy too."

"We are not going to sing anything," said the Story Girl coldly.
"Do you want to make the affair ridiculous? We will just fill up
the grave quietly and put a flat stone over the top."

"It isn't much like my idea of a funeral," muttered Sara Ray
discontentedly.

"Never mind, we're going to have a real obituary about him in Our
Magazine," whispered Cecily consolingly.

"And Peter is going to cut his name on top of the stone," added
Felicity. "Only we mustn't let on to the grown-ups until it is
done, because they might say it wasn't right."

We left the orchard, a sober little band, with the wind of the
gray twilight blowing round us. Uncle Roger passed us at the
gate.