sper; an absence of all amusement
and almost of all employment, and a full surrender to the trappings
of woe. They two were living together without other companion in the
big house,--sitting down together to dinner and to tea; but on this
day hardly a dozen words were spoken between them, and those dozen
were spoken with no purport. On the Monday Captain Aylmer gave orders
for the funeral, and then went away to London, undertaking to be back
on the day before the last ceremony. Clara was rather glad that he
should be gone, though she feared the solitude of the big house. She
was glad that he should be gone, as she found it impossible to talk
to him with ease to herself. She knew that he was about to assume
some position as protector or quasi guardian over her, in conformity
with her aunt's express wish, and she was quite resolved that she
would submit to no such guardianship from his hands. That being so,
the shorter period there might be for any such discussion the better.

The funeral was to take place on the Saturday, and during the four
days that intervened she received two visits from Mr. Possitt. Mr.
Possitt was very discreet in what he said, and Clara was angry with
herself for not allowing his words to have any avail with her. She
told herself that they were commonplace; but she told herself, also,
after his first visit, that she had no right to expect anything else
but commonplace words. How often are men found who can speak words
on such occasions that are not commonplaces,--that really stir the
soul, and bring true comfort to the listener? The humble listener
may receive comfort even from commonplace words; but Clara was not
humble, and rebuked herself for her own pride. On the second occasion
of his coming she did endeavour to receive him with a meek heart,
and to accept what he said with an obedient spirit. But the struggle
within her bosom was hard, and when he bade her to kneel and pray
with him, she doubted for a moment between rebellion and hypocrisy.
But she had determined to be meek, and so hypocrisy carried the hour.

What would a clergyman say on such an occasion if the object of his
solicitude were to decline the offer, remarking that prayer at that
moment did not seem to be opportune; and that, moreover, he, the
person thus invited, would like, first of all, to know what was to
be the special object of the proposed prayer, if he found that he
could, at the spur of the moment, bring himself at all