tery; no ray of sunlight fell upon his open grave, but the weather was mild, and among the budded trees passed a breath which was the promise of spring. Joseph Snowdon and the Byasses were Jane’s only companions in the mourning-carriage; but at the cemetery they were joined by Sidney Kirkwood. Jane saw him and felt the pressure of his hand, but she could neither speak nor understand anything that was said to her. On Friday morning, before she had made a show of eating the breakfast Bessie Byass prepared for her, a visitor arrived.
“She says her name’s Mrs. Griffin,” said Bessie, “and she has something very important to tell you. Do you feel you can see her?”
“Mrs. Griffin? Oh, I remember; she lives in the same house as Pennyloaf. Yes; let her come in.”
The woman was introduced to the Byasses’ parlour, which Bessie thought more cheerful for Jane just now than the room upstairs.
“Have you heard anything of what’s been goin’ on with the Hewetts, Miss?” she began.
“No. I haven’t been able to go out this week. I’ve had trouble at home.”
