amp, and
that even in June it was difficult to get through without wet feet; but
Mrs. Warrender had felt herself checked by her son's reply about the
alterations, and Theo felt that to betray how much he was thinking of
them would be horrifying to his mother: so they both stepped into the
marshy part without a word.

"You are still decided to go on Friday,--you and the girls?"

"Surely, Theo: we are all in good health, Heaven be praised! I should
not feel that I had done everything if I did not go."

"You are sure it will not be too much for you, mother?"

This question went to her heart. She knew that it ought to be too much
for her. Had she been the wife she ought to have been, the widow with a
broken heart, then, perhaps, there might have been a doubt. But she knew
also that it would not be too much for her. Her heart ached for the
ideal anguish, which nobody looked for, nor would have understood. "He
would have liked it," she said, in a subdued voice. That, at least, was
quite true: and to carry out all his wishes thus faithfully was something,
although she could not pay him the homage which was his due,--the supreme
compliment of a broken heart.

At last Friday came. It was a dull day, of the colour most congenial to
such a ceremony. A gentle shower fell upon the wreaths and crosses that
covered the coffin. There was a large assembly from all the country
round, for Mr. Warrender had been a man who never harmed anybody, which
is perhaps a greater title to respect than those possess who have taken
more trouble. When you try to do good, especially in a rural place, you
are sure to stir up animosities; but Mr. Warrender had never stirred up
anybody. He was greatly respected. Lord Markland was what the farmers
called "a wild young sprig," with little regard to the proprieties; but
he was there, and half the clergymen of the diocese, and every country
gentleman on the west side of the county. The girls from behind their
crape veils watched the procession filing into church, and were deeply
gratified; and Mrs. Warrender felt that he would have liked it, and that
everything was being done according to his wishes. She said to herself
that this was what he would have done for her if she had died first; and
immediately there rose before her eyes (also behind her crape veil) a
picture of what might have been, had the coffin in the middle of the
church been hers; how he would have stepped and looked, and the way in
which h