e. Others invariably controlled. She thought of him as being taken
from her finally by the removal of the body to Cincinnati, as though
distance made any difference. She decided at last to veil herself
heavily and attend the funeral at the church. The paper had explained
that the services would be at two in the afternoon. Then at four the
body would be taken to the depot, and transferred to the train; the
members of the family would accompany it to Cincinnati. She thought of
this as another opportunity. She might go to the depot.

A little before the time for the funeral cortege to arrive at the
church there appeared at one of its subsidiary entrances a woman in
black, heavily veiled, who took a seat in an inconspicuous corner. She
was a little nervous at first, for, seeing that the church was dark
and empty, she feared lest she had mistaken the time and place; but
after ten minutes of painful suspense a bell in the church tower began
to toll solemnly. Shortly thereafter an acolyte in black gown and
white surplice appeared and lighted groups of candles on either side
of the altar. A hushed stirring of feet in the choir-loft indicated
that the service was to be accompanied by music. Some loiterers,
attracted by the bell, some idle strangers, a few acquaintances and
citizens not directly invited appeared and took seats.

Jennie watched all this with wondering eyes. Never in her life had
she been inside a Catholic church. The gloom, the beauty of the
windows, the whiteness of the altar, the golden flames of the candles
impressed her. She was suffused with a sense of sorrow, loss, beauty,
and mystery. Life in all its vagueness and uncertainty seemed typified
by this scene.

As the bell tolled there came from the sacristy a procession of
altar-boys. The smallest, an angelic youth of eleven, came first,
bearing aloft a magnificent silver cross. In the hands of each
subsequent pair of servitors was held a tall, lighted candle. The
priest, in black cloth and lace, attended by an acolyte on either
hand, followed. The procession passed out the entrance into the
vestibule of the church, and was not seen again until the choir began
a mournful, responsive chant, the Latin supplication for mercy and
peace.

Then, at this sound the solemn procession made its reappearance.
There came the silver cross, the candles, the dark-faced priest,
reading dramatically to himself as he walked, and the body of Lester
in a great black coffin, w