CHAPTER XI

Thefuneralwasover.Thecarriageshadrolledawaythroughthesoftmud,andonlythepoorremained.Theyapproachedtothenewly-dugshaftandlookedtheirlastatthecoffin,nowalmosthiddenbeneaththespadefulsofclay.Itwastheirmoment.Mostofthemwerewomenfromthedeadwoman’sdistrict,towhomblackgarmentshadbeenservedoutbyMr.Wilcox’sorders.Purecuriosityhadbroughtothers.Theythrilledwiththeexcitementofadeath,andofarapiddeath,andstoodingroupsormovedbetweenthegraves,likedropsofink.Thesonofoneofthem,awood-cutter,wasperchedhighabovetheirheads,pollardingoneofthechurchyardelms.FromwherehesathecouldseethevillageofHilton,strungupontheNorthRoad,withitsaccretingsuburbsthesunsetbeyond,scarletandorange,winkingathimbeneathbrowsofgreythechurchtheplantationsandbehindhimanunspoiltcountryoffieldsandfarms.Buthe,too,wasrollingtheeventluxuriouslyinhismouth.Hetriedtotellhismotherdownbelowallthathehadfeltwhenhesawthecoffinapproaching:howhecouldnotleavehiswork,andyetdidnotliketogoonwithithowhehadalmostslippedoutofthetree,hewassoupsettherookshadcawed,andnowonder—itwasasifrooksknewtoo.Hismotherclaimedthepropheticpowerherself—shehadseenastrangelookaboutMrs.Wilcoxforsometime.Londonhaddonethemischief,saidothers.Shehadbeenakindladyhergrandmotherhadbeenkind,too—aplainerperson,butverykind.Ah,theoldsortwasdyingout!Mr.Wilcox,hewasakindgentleman.Theyadvancedtothetopicagainandagain,dully,butwithexaltation.ThefuneralofarichpersonwastothemwhatthefuneralofAlcestisorOpheliaistotheeducated.ItwasArtthoughremotefromlife,itenhancedlife’svalues,andtheywitnesseditavidly. Thegrave-diggers,whohadkeptupanundercurrentofdisapproval—theydislikedCharlesitwasnotamomenttospeakofsuchthings,buttheydidnotlikeCharlesWilcox—thegrave-diggersfinishedtheirworkandpiledupthewreathsandcrossesaboveit.ThesunsetoverHiltonthegreybrowsoftheeveningflushedalittle,andwerecleftwithonescarletfrown.Chatteringsadlytoeachother,themournerspassedthroughthelych-gateandtraversedthechestnutavenuesthatleddowntothevillage.Theyoungwood-cutterstayedalittlelonger,poisedabovethesilenceandswayingrhythmically.Atlasttheboughfellbeneathhissaw.Withagrunt,hedescended,histhoughtsdwellingnolongerondeath,butonlove,forhewasmating.Hestoppedashepassedthenewgraveasheafoftawnychrysanthemumshadcaughthiseye.“Theydidn’toughttohavecolouredflowersatburyings,”hereflected.Trudgingonafewsteps,hestoppedagain,lookedfurtivelyatthedusk,turnedback,wrenchedachrysanthemumfromthesheaf,andhiditinhispocket. Afterhimcamesilenceabsolute.Thecottagethatabuttedonthechurchyardwasempty,andnootherhousestoodnear.Hourafterhourthesceneoftheintermentremainedwithoutaneyetowitnessit.Cloudsdriftedoveritfromthewestorthechurchmayhavebeenaship,high-prowed,steeringwithallitscompanytowardsinfinity.Towardsmorningtheairgrewcolder,theskyclearer,thesurfaceoftheearthhardandsparklingabovetheprostratedead.Thewood-cutter,returningafteranightofjoy,reflected:“Theylilies,theychrysantsit’sapityIdidn’ttakethemall.” UpatHowardsEndtheywereattemptingbreakfast.CharlesandEviesatinthedining-room,withMrs.Charles.Theirfather,whocouldnotbeartoseeaface,breakfastedupstairs.Hesufferedacutely.Paincameoverhiminspasms,asifitwasphysical,andevenwhilehewasabouttoeat,hiseyeswouldfillwithtears,andhewouldlaydownthemorseluntasted. Herememberedhiswife’sevengoodnessduringthirtyyears.Notanythingindetail—notcourtshiporearlyraptures—butjusttheunvaryingvirtue,thatseemedtohimawoman’snoblestquality.Somanywomenarecapricious,breakingintooddflawsofpassionorfrivolity.Notsohiswife.Yearafteryear,summerandwinter,asbrideandmother,shehadbeenthesame,hehadalwaystrustedher.Hertenderness!Herinnocence!ThewonderfulinnocencethatwashersbythegiftofGod.Ruthknewnomoreofworldlywickednessandwisdomthandidtheflowersinhergarden,orthegrassinherfield.Herideaofbusiness—“Henry,whydopeoplewhohaveenoughmoneytrytogetmoremoney?”Herideaofpolitics—“Iamsurethatifthemothersofvariousnationscouldmeet,therewouldbenomorewars,”Herideaofreligion—ah,thishadbeenacloud,butacloudthatpassed.ShecameofQuakerstock,andheandhisfamily,formerlyDissenters,werenowmembersoftheChurchofEngland.Therector’ssermonshadatfirstrepelledher,andshehadexpressedadesirefor“amoreinwardlight,”adding,“notsomuchformyselfasforbaby”(Charles).Inwardlightmusthavebeengranted,forheheardnocomplaintsinlateryears.Theybroughtuptheirthreechildrenwithoutdispute.Theyhadneverdisputed. Shelayundertheearthnow.Shehadgone,andasiftomakehergoingthemorebitter,hadgonewithatouchofmysterythatwasallunlikeher.“Whydidn’tyoutellmeyouknewofit?”hehadmoaned,andher