e home farm; Mr
Mortimer Green, of Kidwelly; Samuel Jones, of Llanfeare Grange; and
the two Cantors, Joseph Cantor the father, and Joseph the son. I
don't know whether you know them by appearance as yet."

"Yes," said he, "I know them." His face was almost sepulchral as he
answered her, and as she looked at him she perceived that a slight
quiver came upon his lips as she pronounced with peculiar clearness
the two last names on the list.

"I thought it best to tell you all this," she added. "If I find it
possible, I shall go to Hereford on Wednesday. Most of my things are
already packed. It may be that something may occur to stop me, but if
it is possible I shall go on Wednesday."

CHAPTER VI

Mr Apjohn's Explanation

The reader need not be detained with any elaborate account of the
funeral. Every tenant and every labourer about the place was there;
as also were many of the people from Carmarthen. Llanfeare Church,
which stands on a point of a little river just as it runs into a
creek of the sea, is not more than four miles distant from the town;
but such was the respect in which the old squire was held that a
large crowd was present as the body was lowered into the vault. Then
the lunch followed, just as Isabel had said. There was Cousin Henry,
and there were the doctor and the lawyer, and there were the tenants
who had been specially honoured by invitation, and there was Joseph
Cantor the younger. The viands were eaten freely, though the occasion
was not a happy one. Appetites are good even amidst grief, and the
farmers of Llanfeare took their victuals and their wine in funereal
silence, but not without enjoyment. Mr Apjohn and Dr Powell also were
hungry, and being accustomed, perhaps, to such entertainments, did
not allow the good things prepared to go waste. But Cousin Henry,
though he made an attempt, could not swallow a morsel. He took a
glass of wine, and then a second, helping himself from the bottle as
it stood near at hand; but he ate nothing, and spoke hardly a word.
At first he made some attempt, but his voice seemed to fail him. Not
one of the farmers addressed a syllable to him. He had before the
funeral taken each of them by the hand, but even then they had not
spoken to him. They were rough of manner, little able to conceal
their feelings; and he understood well from their bearing that he was
odious to them. Now as he sat at table with them, he determined that
as soon as this matter should