With the bending of uncovered heads, in a final gaze of leave
taking, over the coffin at rest in the bottom of the grave, all
that belonged to the ceremony of burial was fulfilled; but the two
facts that no one left the churchyard, although the wind blew and
the rain fell, until the mound of sheltering earth was heaped high
over the dead, and that the hands of many friends assisted with
spade and shovel, did much to compensate for the lack of a service.

As soon as this labour was ended, Mr Graham again offered his arm
to Miss Horn, who had stood in perfect calmness watching the whole
with her eagle's eyes. But although she accepted his offer, instead
of moving towards the gate, she kept her position in the attitude
of a hostess who will follow her friends. They were the last to go
from the churchyard. When they reached the schoolhouse she would
have had Mr Graham leave her, but he insisted on seeing her home.
Contrary to her habit she yielded, and they slowly followed the
retiring company.

"Safe at last!" half sighed Miss Horn, as they entered the town--
her sole remark on the way.

Rounding a corner, they came upon Mrs Catanach standing at a
neighbour's door, gazing out upon nothing, as was her wont at times,
but talking to some one in the house behind her. Miss Horn turned
her head aside as she passed. A look of low, malicious, half triumphant
cunning lightened across the puffy face of the howdy. She cocked
one bushy eyebrow, setting one eye wide open, drew down the other
eyebrow, nearly closing the eye under it, and stood looking after
them until they were out of sight. Then turning her head over her
shoulder, she burst into a laugh, softly husky with the general