The reader need not be detained with any elaborate account of the funeral. Every tenant¹ and every labourer about the place was there; as also were many of the people from Carmarthen. Llanfeare Church, which stands on a point of a little river just as it runs into a creek² of the sea, is not more than four miles distant from the town; but such was the respect in which the old squire³ was held that a large crowd was present as the body was lowered into the vault⁴. Then the lunch followed, just as Isabel had said. There was Cousin Henry, and there were the doctor and the lawyer, and there were the tenants⁵ who had been specially⁶ honoured by invitation, and there was Joseph Cantor the younger. The viands⁷ were eaten freely, though the occasion was not a happy one. Appetites are good even amidst grief, and the farmers of Llanfeare took their victuals⁸ and their wine in funereal⁹ silence, but not without enjoyment¹⁰. Mr Apjohn and Dr Powell also were hungry, and being accustomed, perhaps, to such entertainments, did not allow the good things prepared to go waste. But Cousin Henry, though he made an attempt, could not swallow a morsel¹¹. He took a glass of wine, and then a second, helping¹² himself from the bottle as it stood near at hand; but he ate nothing, and

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