done. He was not at first so sure it was done, but that the
morning sun was hanging jewels in her hair--he saw the diamond,
emerald, and ruby, glittering among it in little points, as he
stood looking down at her--when he lifted her and laid her on her
bed.

'She was soon laid in the ground. And now they were all gone, and
he had compensated himself well.

'He had a mind to travel. Not that he meant to waste his Money,
for he was a pinching man and liked his Money dearly (liked nothing
else, indeed), but, that he had grown tired of the desolate house
and wished to turn his back upon it and have done with it. But,
the house was worth Money, and Money must not be thrown away. He
determined to sell it before he went. That it might look the less
wretched and bring a better price, he hired some labourers to work
in the overgrown garden; to cut out the dead wood, trim the ivy
that drooped in heavy masses over the windows and gables, and clear
the walks in which the weeds were growing mid-leg high.

'He worked, himself, along with them. He worked later than they
did, and, one evening at dusk, was left working alone, with his
bill-hook in his hand. One autumn evening, when the Bride was five
weeks dead.

'"It grows too dark to work longer," he said to himself, "I must
give over for the night."

'He detested the house, and was loath to enter it. He looked at
the dark porch waiting for him like a tomb, and felt that it was an