"Don't bother about the future, don't think about it. Consider yourself, and take a little rest this afternoon. Everybody is very concerned for you, they mean to be awfully decent in their way; but I know how they try you. They can't help it. Such a thing takes them out of their daily round, and beggars their experience, and makes them excited and tactless. There's no precedent for them, and you know how most people depend on precedent and how they're bowled over before anything new." "I will go to Mary, I think. Has the undertaker been?" "Yes, uncle." "I want him to be buried with us here. I should not suppose his father will object." "Not likely. Mary would wish it so." "It was so typical of Mary to think of Septimus May before everybody. She put her own feelings from her that she might soften the blow for him." "She would." "Are you equal to telling the clergyman at the station that his son is dead, or can't you trust yourself to do it?" "I expect he'll know it well enough, but I'll tell him everything there is to tell. I remember long ago, after the wedding, that he was interested in haunted rooms, and said he believed in such things on Scriptural grounds." Sir Walter took pause at this statement. "That is news to me. Supposing he--However, we need not trouble ourselves with him yet. He will, of course, be as deeply concerned to get to the bottom of this as I am, though we must not interfere, or make the inquiry harder for Hardcastle than he is bound to find it." "Certainly nobody must interfere. I only hope we can get Peter Hardcastle." "Tell them to call me when Mr. May arrives, and not sooner. I'll see Mary, then lie down for an hour or two." "You feel all right? Should you care to see Mannering?" "I am right enough. Say 'Good-bye' to Vane and Miles Handford for me. They may have to return here presently. One can't tell who may be wanted, and who may not be. I don't know--these things are outside my experience; but they had better both leave you their directions." "I'll ask them." Sir Walter visited his daughter, and changed his mind about sleeping. She was passing through an hour of unspeakable horror. The dark temple of realization had opened for her and she was treading its dreary aisles. Henceforth for long days--she told herself for ever--sorrow and sense of unutterable loss must be her companions and share her waking hours. They stopped together alone till the dusk came down and Mannering returned. He stayed but a few minutes, and presently they heard his car start again, while that containing the departing guests and Henry Lennox immediately followed it.