Mr. John Heron was a prominent member of this little sect, and was
famous in its small circles for his extreme sanctity and his eloquence
as a lay preacher. Mr. Wordley, with much misgiving, had invited this,
the only relative he could find, to the funeral, and Ida was now
awaiting this gentleman's arrival.
The stealthy footsteps which belong to those who minister to the dead
passed up and down the great house, Jason was setting out the simple
"funeral baked meats" which are considered appropriate to the occasion,
and Mr. Wordley paced up and down the hall with his hands behind his
back, listening to the undertaker's men upstairs, and glancing through
the window in expectation of the carriage which had been sent for Mr.
John Heron. Presently he saw it rounding a bend of the drive, and went
into the library to prepare Ida.
She raised her head but not her eyes as he entered, and looked at him
with that dull apathy which denotes the benumbed heart, the mind
crushed under its heavy weight of sorrow.
"I came in to tell you, my dear, that Mr. John Heron is coming," he
said. "The carriage is just turning the bend of the drive.
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