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His head
was still aching terribly, and he was cold and faint, and this was a
sufficient reason for his declining to accompany his Aunt Lucy, when,
after breakfast was over, she went with his father to the farm-house,
where she spent nearly the entire day, seeing to the many little things
necessary for the funeral, and which Hannah could not attend to.
Geraldine did not go. Her nerves were not equal to it and she should
only be in the way, she said. So she sent her love to Hannah and
remained at home with Grey, who seldom spoke to her, and scarcely
stirred, though occasionally his mother saw his lips move and great
tears roll down his cheeks.
"I supposed he would care, but not so much as this," she thought, as she
watched him anxiously, wondering at the strength of his love for an old
man in whom she had never even felt interested.
Once, moved with pity for him, she put her hand on his head, just as in
the morning she had put it on her husband's, and stooping, kissed him
tenderly, saying:
"I am sorry for you, Grey.


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