Lucy’s brother-in-law, Mr. Brand, went down to Bath to attend Mr. Bray’s funeral, and his wife Florence accompanied him “to be with the dear old lady in her sorrow.” Indeed, Mr. Brand left his wife with the widow while he went to and fro between Bath and London, looking after his own business and winding up Mr. Bray’s affairs. Lucy would have liked to visit the old lady in the early days of bereavement, but, of course, in her circumstances any such expression of sympathy was out of the question. Still, every evening, no matter how tired and despondent she felt she wrote a loving little note to her mother’s old friend, so that every morning she might find it on her breakfast-table. Also, Lucy copied a little picture of the Surrey village where she knew Mrs. Bray had first met her dead husband, and she sent it to the widow as a tender sign of sympathy. Lucy did not wonder that Mrs. Bray herself never acknowledged these tokens of love, for she knew the lady was old and feeble, and that deep grief is sometimes very silent. She knew that Mrs. Bray received all her remembrances, for Florence wrote delivering the old lady’s “thanks for all kindnesses,” and adding how grateful she also was for Florence’s companionship, and for all the arrangements “Jem” was making for her welfare. “There is not so much property left as one might have supposed, considering that Mr. Bray has earned such a large income for so many years,” wrote Florence. “But then the Brays have always lived among people of rank and wealth, and naturally they got into the habit of spending as their friends did.” “Ah,” said Miss Latimer, as Lucy read the letter to her. “In that way, earned incomes, however big, soon break up and vanish, as did the clay jar in the fable, when it raced with the iron pot!”