‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. I bored him. "What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. Her mother had prepared her for everything. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. E. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. “Home, of course,” she answered.
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