decide definitely on what he
really did see. His vision would retain confused images. Probably he saw
the dead man's hand--he was wearing a black coat and white linen. The
verdict was a most sensible one."

No more was said after that, and that evening Ransford was almost
himself again. But not quite himself. Mary caught him looking very
grave, in evident abstraction, more than once; more than once she heard
him sigh heavily. But he said no more of the matter until two days
later, when, at breakfast, he announced his intention of attending John
Braden's funeral, which was to take place that morning.

"I've ordered the brougham for eleven," he said, "and I've arranged with
Dr. Nicholson to attend to any urgent call that comes in between that
and noon--so, if there is any such call, you can telephone to him. A few
of us are going to attend this poor man's funeral--it would be too bad
to allow a stranger to go to his grave unattended, especially after
such a fate. There'll be somebody representing the Dean and Chapter,
and three or four principal townsmen, so he'll not be quite neglected.
And"--here he hesitated and looked a little nervously at Mary, to whom
he was telling all this, Dick having departed for school--"there's a
little matter I wish you'd attend to--you'll do it better than I should.
The man seems to have been friendless; here, at any rate--no relations
have come forward, in spite of the publicity--so--don't you think it
would be rather--considerate, eh?--to put a wreath, or a cross, or
something of that sort on his grave--just to show--you know?"

"Very kind of you to think of it," said Mary. "What do you wish me to
do?"

"If you'd go to Gardales', the florists, and order--something fitting,
you know," replied Ransford, "and afterwards--later in the day--take it
to St. Wigbert's Churchyard--he's to be buried there--take it--if you
don't mind--yourself, you know."

"Certainly," answered Mary. "I'll see that it's done."

She would do anything that seemed good to Ransford--but all the same she
wondered at this somewhat unusual show of interest in a total stranger.
She put it down at last to Ransford's undoubted sentimentality--the
man's sad fate had impressed him. And that afternoon the sexton at St.
Wigbert's pointed out the new grave to Miss Bewery and Mr. Sackville
Bonham, one carrying a wreath and the other a large bunch of lilies.
Sackville, chancing to encounter Mary at the florist's, whither he ha