CHAPTER XI
ALL of Mrs. Tarleton’s old friends sent flowers, and many of them attended the funeral service, which took place in the death chamber. Mrs. Hayne had decided that a church funeral would be too expensive, and her boarders would have objected to the association of a coffin with the back parlour. Lee, holding Cecil’s hand tightly, sat in a corner, looking smaller and darker than ever in her black frock, the novelty of which had mitigated her grief for the moment. All of the ladies kissed her and told her that she must be sure to come to see them; and Mrs. Montgomery, who had just returned from Europe, and was very much agitated, asked her to come home with her at once. But Lee only shook her head. She and Cecil had other plans.
Her cot was taken into Miss Hayne’s room and she went to school as usual. Her grief waxed rather than waned, and she stooped so that Mrs. Hayne put her into braces, which confirmed her gloomy views of life. But her woman’s instincts were very keen, and she knew that if she was to have the solace of Cecil’s companionship, she must reserve her tears for solitude. He was very kind, and informed her that he loved her the better because she had such a jolly lot of grit and kept her back up (Lee had notmentioned the braces), and that his father—who hated Americans—had condescended to say that Lee was a jolly little thing, and had more character and good sense at the age of eleven than his own selection had accumulated in five-and-thirty years.
She and Cecil took many long walks, and rode back and forth on the Oakland and Sausalito boats, munching molasses candy; Cecil was rapidly falling a victim to the national vice. One day the father and son took her to the country on a fishing expedition. It was a very long day, and it was very hot. She sat on the bank and watched the others fish. Their concentration amounted to genius, and except at luncheon, which she prepared, they never addressed a word to her. She had never seen Mr. Maundrell look so happy, and as for Cecil, his hazel eyes sparkled like champagne. In spite of the blue sky, the warm sunshine, the beautiful depths of the redwood forest, the singing stream, she felt lonely and depressed, and went home with a sun-burned nose, and a heart full of those obscure forebodings which assail woman when man forgets the lesson of civilisation and pays a brief and joyous visit to the plane of his sovereign ancestors.