"No matter," she answered, and then moved away. The crowd drifted down the lanes and up the lanes. The men in pink mounted their horses and rode away with the hounds. Enoch's old master also departed on horseback, as did a dozen other men and several women. Soon only Melinda and Jerry were left to see the grave filled in and dispose the wreaths upon it. Mr. Chaffe kept them company. He cheered them by saying that never in his long experience, save once, had he known any man of the people enjoy such splendid and distinguished obsequies. "A magnificent funeral despite the hounds," he said, "and Buckland did ought to be proud of it. There was a journalist from a Plymouth newspaper there, Jerry, so you'll be able to keep a printed history, with all the names, for future generations of your family to read aloud." But Jerry was weeping and paid no heed; while his sister also, now that the strain had passed and the anticlimax come, hid not her tears. Soosie-Toosie, her father and the two labouring men walked home together and Joe uttered a vain lament. "A thousand pities the man's sailor son, Robert, couldn't be there," he said. "It would have been a fine thing for him to see what his father was thought of. And he'd have supported Melinda. She stood up very well and firm; but I know she'll miss him a terrible lot--her occupation gone you may say; for there's nobody leaves such a gap as an invalid that's called for your nursing for years. When the place is suddenly emptied of such a one, you feel as if the bottom was knocked out of your life, same as I did when my wife went." Joe was in a mood unusually pensive and his daughter felt anxious. She tried to rally him, but failed. "I'm looking forward," he said. "In that great rally of neighbours there was a lot of old blids from round about--a good few up home eighty years old I shouldn't wonder; and such was the bitter cold in the churchyard that you may be certain death was busy sowing his seeds. I hope to God I be all right, and I thank you for making me put on my heavy clothes, Soosie." Palk walked behind them and talked fitfully to Maynard. "'Twill ruin Christmas," said Thomas. "He was a famous man and there'll be a gloom fall over the place now he's dropped out." "It won't make any difference," answered the younger. "It may make a valiant lot of difference, and that nearer home than you think for," answered Palk. But Maynard shook his head. "There's nothing in it. Joe won't offer for her--Mrs. Honeysett--if that's what you're thinking; and if he did, 'tis doubtful if she'd take him. I've heard her tell about him to her father." "And what did she tell?" "Nothing but good. She knows his worth and all that. But Enoch didn't set very high store on master. I wondered why sometimes." "Did you? I lay he knew him better than what you do. And he knew this--that a man who worked his only child like Stockman works his would make his wife a proper beast of burden."