appings, and over the invisible coffin nodded a gloomy harvest of
black ostrich plumes. There were no flowers, and some children, who
crept forward with a little wreath of wild roses, were pushed back.

The men from the Mill helped to carry their master into the church; but
there were not enough of them to support the massive oak that held a
massive man, and John Best, Levi Baggs, Benny Cogle and Nicholas Roberts
were assisted by the undertakers.

From the first coach descended an elderly woman and a youth. The lady
was Miss Jenny Ironsyde, sister of the dead, and with her came her
nephew Daniel, the new mill-owner. He was five-and-twenty--a sallow,
strong-faced young fellow, broad in the shoulder and straight in the
back. His eyes were brown and steady, his mouth and nose indicated
decision; the funeral had not changed his cast of countenance, which was
always solemn; for, as his father before him, he lacked a sense of
humour.

Mr. Churchouse shook hands and peered into the coach.

"Where's Raymond?" he asked.

"Not come," answered Miss Ironsyde. She was a sturdy woman of
five-and-fifty, with a pleasant face and kindly eyes. But they were
clouded now and she showed agitation.

"Not come!" exclaimed Ernest with very genuine consternation.

Daniel Ironsyde answered. His voice was slow, but he had a natural
instinct for clarity and spoke more to the point than is customary with
youth.

"My brother has not come because my father has left him out of his will,
Mr. Churchouse."

"Altogether?"

"Absolutely. Will you take my aunt's arm and follow next after me,
please?"

Two clergymen met the coffin at the lich-gate, and behind the chief
mourners came certain servants and dependents, followed by the women of
the Mill. Then a dozen business men walked together. A few of his
co-workers had sent their carriages; but most came themselves, to do the
last honour to one greatly respected.

Mr. Churchouse paid little attention to the obsequies.

"Not at his father's funeral!" he kept thinking to himself. His simple
mind was thrown into a large confusion by such an incident. The fact
persisted rather than the reason for it. He longed to learn more, but
could not until the funeral was ended.

When the coffin came to the grave, Mary Dinnett stole home to look after
the midday dinner. It had weighed on her mind since she awoke, for Miss
Ironsyde and Daniel were coming to 'The Magnolias' to partake of a meal
before return