"I think it very sweet, on the contrary," I answered, vexed at the interruption, and very uncomfortable, lest the people who composed the little procession should observe and resent what was passing.
I resumed, therefore, instantly, and was again interrupted. "You pierce my ears," said Carmilla, almost angrily, and stopping her ears with her tiny fingers. "Besides, how can you tell that your religion and mine are the same; your forms wound me, and I hate funerals. What a fuss! Why you must die —everyone must die; and all are happier when they do. Come home."
"My father has gone on with the clergyman to the churchyard. I thought you knew she was to be buried to day."
"She? I don't trouble my head about peasants. I don't know who she is," answered Carmilla, with a flash from her fine eyes.
