her. She did not dare to move now; did not dare go near the music
chair even if going near it would have done any good. She remained upon
the sofa, and shivered.

A few moments later Mrs. Hobbs appeared, looking very solemn and
Sundayfied, and sat beside her. Then Judge and Mrs. Baxter were shown
into the little room and took two of the remaining chairs. The Judge
bowed and smiled and Mrs. Baxter leaned over and patted her hand.
Mary-'Gusta tried to smile, too, but succeeded only in looking more
miserable. Mrs. Hobbs whispered to her to sit up straight.

There was a steady stream of people through the front door now. They all
entered the parlor and many stayed there, but others passed on into the
"big settin'-room." The chairs there were almost all taken; soon all
were taken and Mr. Hallett was obliged to remove one of those in the
small room. There were but two left empty, one a tall, straight antique
with a rush seat, a family heirloom, and the other the music chair.
Mary-'Gusta stared at the music chair and hoped and hoped.

Mr. Sharon, the minister, entered and shook hands with the Judge and
Mrs. Baxter and with Mrs. Hobbs and Mary-'Gusta. He also patted the
child's hand. Mrs. Hobbs whispered to him, with evident pride, that it
was "goin' to be one of the biggest funerals ever given in Ostable." Mr.
Sharon nodded. Then, after waiting a moment or two, he tiptoed along the
front hall and took up his stand by the parlor door. There was a final
rustle of gowns, a final crackle of Sunday shirtfronts, and then a
hushed silence.

The silence was broken by the rattle of wheels in the yard. Mr. Hallett
at the door held up a warning hand. A moment later he ushered two people
in at the front door and led them through the parlor into the "big
settin'-room." Mary-'Gusta could see the late comers plainly. They were
both men, one big and red-faced and bearded, the other small, and thin,
and white-haired. A rustle passed through the crowd and everyone turned
to look. Some looked as if they recognized the pair, but they did not
bow; evidently it was not proper to bow at funerals.

Mr. Hallett, on tiptoe, of course, glided into the little room from
the big one and looked about him. Then, to the absolute stupefaction
of Mary-'Gusta, he took the rush-seated chair in one hand and the music
chair in the other and tiptoed out. He placed the two chairs in the back
row close to the door of the smaller room and motioned to the two men to