“Oh, to be sure, it is necessary that his young lordship should be amused,” cried John, with something like a snarl of disgust. “Can’t you manage to keep him in the house at least, with your feminine influence that we hear so much of? Better anywhere than among those grooms, hearing tales, perhaps-- Rosie, forgive me,” he cried, coming up to her suddenly, stooping over her and kissing her, “if I snap and snarl even at you, my dear; but I am altogether distracted, and don’t know what I am saying or doing. Only, for God’s sake, dance or sing, or play cards, or anything, it does not matter what you do, it will be a pious office; only keep him in-doors, where he will hear no gossip; that would be the last aggravation; or go and take him out for a walk, it will be better for you both to get into the fresh air.” CHAPTER XVII. Thus a whole week of darkness and depression passed away. Mr. Trevanion was a great personage in the county. It was fit that all honor should be done him. All the greatest persons in the neighborhood had to be convened to conduct him in due state to his other dwelling among the marbles of the mausoleum which his fathers had built. It had been necessary to arrange a day that would suit everybody, so that nothing should be subtracted from this concluding grandeur; and accordingly Highcourt remained, so to speak, in its suit of sables, with blinds drawn down and shutters closed, as if darkness had veiled this part of the earth. And, indeed, as it was the end of November, the face of the sky was dim with clouds, and heavy mists gathered over the trees, adding a deeper gloom to the shut-up house within. Life seemed to be congealed in the silent rooms, except when broken by such an outburst of impassioned feeling as that which John Trevanion had betrayed to Rosalind. Perhaps this relieved him a little, but it put a burden of vague misery upon her which her youth was quite unequal to bear. She awaited the funeral with feverish excitement, and a terror to which she could give no form.