ting about with her everywhere. Very fond of her, they were. Ah,
well!'

'Fonder than ever they were of their mother, so 'tis said here and
there,' added a labourer.

'Well, you see, 'tis natural. Lady Luxellian stood aloof from
'em so--was so drowsy-like, that they couldn't love her in the
jolly-companion way children want to like folks. Only last winter I seed
Miss Elfride talking to my lady and the two children, and Miss Elfride
wiped their noses for em' SO careful--my lady never once seeing that it
wanted doing; and, naturally, children take to people that's their best
friend.'

'Be as 'twill, the woman is dead and gone, and we must make a place for
her,' said John. 'Come, lads, drink up your ale, and we'll just rid this
corner, so as to have all clear for beginning at the wall, as soon as
'tis light to-morrow.'

Stephen then asked where Lady Luxellian was to lie.

'Here,' said his father. 'We are going to set back this wall and make a
recess; and 'tis enough for us to do before the funeral. When my lord's
mother died, she said, "John, the place must be enlarged before another
can be put in." But 'a never expected 'twould be wanted so soon. Better
move Lord George first, I suppose, Simeon?'

He pointed with his foot to a heavy coffin, covered with what had
originally been red velvet, the colour of which could only just be
distinguished now.

'Just as ye think best, Master John,' replied the shrivelled mason. 'Ah,
poor Lord George!' he continued, looking contemplatively at the huge
coffin; 'he and I were as bitter enemies once as any could be when one
is a lord and t'other only a mortal man. Poor fellow! He'd clap his hand
upon my shoulder and cuss me as familial and neighbourly as if he'd been
a common chap. Ay, 'a cussed me up hill and 'a cussed me down; and then
'a would rave out again, and the goold clamps of his fine new teeth
would glisten in the sun like fetters of brass, while I, being a small
man and poor, was fain to say nothing at all. Such a strappen fine
gentleman as he was too! Yes, I rather liked en sometimes. But once now
and then, when I looked at his towering height, I'd think in my inside,
"What a weight you'll be, my lord, for our arms to lower under the aisle
of Endelstow Church some day!"'

'And was he?' inquired a young labourer.

'He was. He was five hundredweight if 'a were a pound. What with his
lead, and his oak, and his handles, and his one thing and t'other'--here
the ancient