very shy of the ridiculous, did not in the least wish her company.

"Feelin's!" exclaimed Miss Horn, in a tone of indignant repudiation;
"I'm gauin' to du what's richt. I s' gang, and gien ye dinna like
my company, Mr Cairns, ye can gang hame, an' I s' gang withoot ye.
Gien she sud happen to be luikin doon, she sanna see me wantin'
at the last o' her. But I s' mak' no wark aboot it. I s' no putt
mysel' ower forret."

And. ere the minister could utter another syllable, she had left
her place to go to the rear. The same instant the procession began
to move, corpse marshalled, towards the grave; and stepping aside,
she stood erect, sternly eyeing the irregular ranks of two and
three and four as they passed her, intending to bring up the rear
alone. But already there was one in that solitary position: with
bowed head, Alexander Graham walked last and single. The moment he
caught sight of Miss Horn, he perceived her design, and, lifting
his hat, offered his arm. She took it almost eagerly, and together
they followed in silence, through the gusty wind and monotonous
drizzle.

The school house was close to the churchyard. An instant hush fell
upon the scholars when the hearse darkened the windows, lasting
while the horrible thing slowly turned to enter the iron gates,--
a deep hush, as if a wave of the eternal silence which rounds all
our noises had broken across its barriers. The mad laird, who had
been present all the morning, trembled from head to foot; yet rose
and went to the door with a look of strange, subdued eagerness. When
Miss Horn and Mr Graham had passed into the churchyard, he followed.