resumed his
occupation, without returning the bow of the latter, or bestowing
further notice upon him. Nothing discomposed at the churchman's
displeasure, Jack greeted Titus cordially, and carelessly saluting Mr.
Coates, threw himself into a chair. He next filled a tumbler of claret,
and drained it at a draught.

"Have you ridden far, Jack?" asked Titus, noticing the dusty state of
Palmer's azure attire.

"Some dozen miles," replied Palmer; "and that, on such a sultry
afternoon as the present, makes one feel thirstyish. I'm as dry as a
sandbed. Famous wine this--beautiful tipple--better than all your red
fustian. Ah, how poor Sir Piers used to like it! Well, that's all
over--a glass like this might do him good in his present quarters! I'm
afraid I'm intruding. But the fact is, I wanted a little information
about the order of the procession, and missing you below, came hither in
search of you. You're to be chief mourner, I suppose, Titus--_rehearsing_
your part, eh?"

"Come, come, Jack, no joking," replied Titus; "the subject's too
serious. I am to be chief mourner--and I expect you to be a mourner--and
everybody else to be mourners. We must all mourn at the proper time.
There'll be a power of people at the church."

"There _are_ a power of people here already," returned Jack, "if they
all attend."

"And they all _will_ attend, or what is the eating and drinking to go
for? I sha'n't leave a soul in the house."

"Excepting one," said Jack, archly. "Lady Rookwood won't attend, I
think."

"Ay, excepting her ladyship and her ladyship's abigail. All the rest go
with me, and form part of the procession. You go too."

"Of course. At what time do you start?"

"Twelve precisely. As the clock strikes, we set out--all in a line, and
a long line we'll make. I'm waiting for that ould coffin-faced rascal,
Peter Bradley, to arrange the order."

"How long will it all occupy, think you?" asked Jack, carelessly.

"That I can't say," returned Titus; "possibly an hour, more or less. But
we shall start to the minute--that is, if we can get all together, so
don't be out of the way. And hark ye, Jack, you must contrive to change
your toggery. That sky-blue coat won't do. It's not the thing at all, at
all."

"Never fear that," replied Palmer. "But who were those in the
carriages?"

"Is it the last carriage you mean? Squire Forester and his sons. They're
dining with the other gentlefolk, in the great room up-stairs, to be out