o proceed more slowly still, the cross-road we were
in being rough; and having more time before us than I wanted; for I
wished not the hearse to be in till near dusk. I got to Harlowe-place
about four o'clock. You may believe I found a mournful house. You
desire me to be very minute.

At my entrance into the court, they were all in motion. Every servant
whom I saw had swelled eyes, and looked with so much concern, that at
first I apprehended some new disaster had happened in the family. Mr.
John and Mr. Antony Harlowe and Mrs. Hervey were there. They all helped
on one another's grief, as they had before done each other's hardness of
heart.

My cousin James met me at the entrance of the hall. His countenance
expressed a fixed concern; and he desired me to excuse his behaviour the
last time I was there.

My cousin Arabella came to me full of tears and grief.

O Cousin! said she, hanging upon my arm, I dare not ask you any
questions!--About the approach of the hearse, I suppose she meant.

I myself was full of grief; and, without going farther or speaking, sat
down in the hall in the first chair.

The brother sat on one hand of me, the sister on the other. Both were
silent. The latter in tears.

Mr. Antony Harlowe came to me soon after. His face was overspread with
all the appearance of woe. He requested me to walk into the parlour;
where, as he said, were all his fellow-mourners.

I attended him in. My cousins James and Arabella followed me.

A perfect concert of grief, as I may say, broke out the moment I entered
the parlour.

My cousin Harlowe, the dear creature's father, as soon as he saw me,
said, O Cousin, Cousin, of all our family, you are the only one who have
nothing to reproach yourself with!--You are a happy man!

The poor mother, bowing her head to me in speechless grief, sat with her
handkerchief held to her eyes with one hand. The other hand was held by
her sister Hervey, between both her's; Mrs. Hervey weeping upon it.

Near the window sat Mr. John Harlowe, his face and his body turned from
the sorrowing company; his eyes red and swelled.

My cousin Antony, at his re-entering the parlour, went towards Mrs.
Harlowe--Don't--dear Sister, said he!--Then towards my cousin Harlowe--
Don't--dear Brother!--Don't thus give way--And, without being able to
say another word, went to a corner of the parlour, and, wanting himself
the comfort he would fain have given, sunk into a chair, and audi