The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. John moved closer to her, getting up from his roost by one bench, he joined her at the bench where she sat. She really must not go to that affair. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour.
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