"Well, Delia, I see you wasn't out at the Bisbee's funeral. Though I don't s'pose anyone really expected you, knowin' how things goes with you. Time was, when you was a girl, you counted in as big as any and traveled with the best; but now"--she paused delicately, and coughed politely with an appreciative glance round the poor room--"they ain't anyone hereabouts but's talkin' about it. My land, it was swell! I couldn't ask no better for my own. Fourteen cabs, and the hearse sent over from Rockville--all pale gray, with mottled gray horses. It was what I call tasty. "Matty wasn't what you'd call well-off--not as lucky as some I could mention; but she certainly went off grand! The whole Methodist choir was out, with three numbers in broken time; and her cousin's brother-in-law from out West--some kind of bishop--to preach. Honest, it was one of the grandest sermons I ever heard! Wasn't it, Clem?" Uncle Clem cleared his throat thoughtfully. "Humiliatin'!--that's what I'd call it. A strong maur'l sermon all round. A man couldn't hear it 'thout bein' humiliated more ways'n one." He was back at the watch-chain again. "It's a pity you couldn't of gone, Delia--you an' Matty always was so intimate too. You certainly missed a grand treat, I can tell you; though, if you hadn't the right clothes--" "Well, I haven't," Maw spoke dryly. "I don't go nowheres, as you know--not even church." "I s'pose not. Time was it was different, though, Delia. Ain't nobody but talks how bad off you are. Ann Chester said she seen you in town a while back and wouldn't of knowed it was you if it hadn't of b'en you was wearin' my old brown cape, an' she reconnized it. Her an' me got 'em both alike to the same store in Rockville. You was so changed, she said she couldn't hardly believe it was you at all." "Sometimes I wonder myself if it is," said Maw grimly. "Well, 's I was sayin', it was a grand funeral. None better! They even had engraved invites, over a hundred printed--and they had folks from all over the state. They give Clem, here, the contract fur the supper meat--" "The best of everything!" Uncle Clem broke in. "None o' your cheap graft. Gimme a free hand. Jim Bisbee tole me himself. 'I want the best ye got,' he sez; an' I give it. Spring lamb and prime ribs, fancy hotel style--" "An' Em Carson baked the cakes fur 'em, sixteen of 'em; an' Dickison the undertaker's tellin' all over they got the best quality shroud he carries. Well, you'll find it all in the _Biweekly_, under Death's Busy Sickle. Jim Bisbee shore set a store by Matty oncet she was dead. It was a grand affair, Delia. Not but what we've had some good ones in our time too." It was Aunt Mollie's turn to stare pridefully at the Peel plate on the chimney shelf. "A thing like that sets a family up, sorta."