originator of the alteration herself, chose to speak to the young
man, who in a decided though not a violent manner, laid down the grounds
on which his client proceeded, and gave occasion in what he said for
much serious reflection.

"You see," he said, after a slight introduction, in which he sought to
justify his peremptoriness; "you see, it is right for the lowest as well
as for the highest to mark the spot which holds those who are dearest to
him. The poorest, peasant, who buries a child, finds it some consolation
to plant a light wooden cross upon the grave, and hang a garland upon
it, to keep alive the memorial, at least as long as the sorrow remains;
although such a mark, like the mourning, will pass away with time. Those
better off change the cross of wood into iron, and fix it down and guard
it in various ways; and here we have endurance for many years. But
because this too will sink at last, and become invisible, those who are
able to bear the expense see nothing fitter than to raise a stone which
shall promise to endure for generations, and which can be restored and
made fresh again by posterity. Yet this stone it is not which attracts
us; it is that which is contained beneath it, which is intrusted, where
it stands, to the earth. It is not the memorial so much of which we
speak, as of the person himself; not of what once was, but of what is.
Far better, far more closely, can I embrace some dear departed one in
the mound which rises over his bed, than in a monumental writing which
only tells us that once he was. In itself, indeed, it is but little; but
around it, as around a central mark, the wife, the husband, the kinsman,
the friend, after their departure, shall gather in again; and the living
shall have the right to keep far off all strangers and evil-wishers
from the side of the dear one who is sleeping there. And, therefore, I
hold it quite fair and fitting that my principal shall withdraw his
grant to you. It is, indeed, but too reasonable that he should do it,
for the members of his family are injured in a way for which no
compensation could be even proposed. They are deprived of the sad sweet
feelings of laying offerings on the remains of their dead, and of the
one comfort in their sorrow of one day lying down at their side."

"The matter is not of that importance," Charlotte answered, "that we
should disquiet ourselves about it with the vexation of a lawsuit. I
regret so little what I have done, tha