The funeral was a very unostentatious affair; only one cab followed the coffin, and contained Sarah and Mrs. Stubbs, the old nurse, and Jane, the untidy little maid, who, after the manner of her sort, wept and sobbed and choked, until Mrs. Stubbs would right willingly have given her a good shaking. Sarah was very subdued and quiet, and Mrs. Stubbs cried a little, and would have cried more had she not been so taken up with keeping an eye on "that stupid ninny Jane." And then they went back to the little hot, stuffy house, and had a cup of tea, after which the vicar of the parish called and had a long talk with Mrs. Stubbs about Sarah’s future. "I can’t say we was good friends with him, pore thing," Mrs. Stubbs explained; "but when death comes between, little differences should be forgotten. And Stubbs and me will forget all our differences now; it’s Stubbs’ wish as well as mine. I believe in sticking to your own flesh and blood, for if your own won’t, whose can you expect to do it? So Sarah and me is the best of friends, and she is going back with me to share and share alike with my own children." "Oh, you are going to take Sarah," said the vicar, who had felt a great interest in the dreamy artist whom they had just left to his last long rest in the quiet country churchyard; "that is very good of you, very good of you. I have been wondering what would become of the poor little woman." "Why, what should become of her?" Mrs. Stubbs said indignantly. "Her mother was Stubbs’ own sister." "Yes," said the vicar, smiling; "but it is not every lady who would at all encourage the idea of bringing up a child because her mother happened to be her husband’s sister." "You’re right there, Mr. Moore; you are right," Mrs. Stubbs cried; "but some women ’ave ’earts of stone instead of flesh and blood. I’m not one of that sort." "And about the furniture, and so on," the vicar broke in, having heard Mrs. Stubbs’s remarks about her own good qualities several times already. Mrs. Stubbs looked round the room in good-natured contempt. "There’s nothing to speak of," she answered--and she was right enough--"but what there is ’ll have to go to paying for the doctor and the undertaker. If there’s a few pounds left over, Stubbs says put it into the savings bank and let the child ’ave it when she grows up. She’ll want to buy a ring or something to remember her father by." "And you are going to take the sole charge and expense of her?" the vicar exclaimed.