The circumstance of Nathan's passing had been received with very real grief by most of his relations. Even distant kindred mourned and not a few of the race, who were strangers to the Baskervilles of Shaugh Prior, appeared at the funeral. Mrs. Baskerville of Cadworthy felt helpless and faced almost with a second widowhood, for all her financial affairs had rested in Nathan's willing hand since her husband died. Her daughters also mourned in very genuine fashion. Their uncle had been kind, helpful, and generous to them. Only Mr. Bassett did not greatly suffer, for now he knew that his wife must inherit her own and hoped, indeed, for some addition under the will of the departed innkeeper. As for Rupert Baskerville, he endured very real grief; but Ned was too concerned with the bearing of this event on his own affairs to feel it deeply. He would now be free to administer his capital as he pleased. Only his mother stood between. One black cloud, however, thrust itself upon his immediate future. His wedding was postponed. Cora insisted upon it, and her mother supported her. Their motives were widely different, but they arrived at the same conclusion. Priscilla hid her grief from all eyes but her son's; while he, less skilled, surprised the folk by his evident sorrow. They failed to understand it, and acute people laughed, judged it to be simulation, and despised the man for his display. Cora and Phyllis neither pretended nor felt grief. The elder had talked her sister round, and they arrived at a perfectly rational conclusion. It was averse from their father. It led them to regard him as a selfish and a cruel man. They considered also that he had deceived himself, and wickedly wronged the unborn that he might perform a far-fetched obligation to the dead. Cora put the case very clearly. "Mother won't see it, and 'tis vain to try to make her; and Heathman won't see it, because he's a fool, and only just misses being weak in his head. But I see it clear enough, and the ugly truth of the man is that for five thousand pounds he was content to let his children come into the world bastards. That's what he did, and I'm not going to pretend I care for him or shall ever respect his memory." "It'll never come out, however," said Phyllis. "I'm sure I hope it won't--not out of my mouth, anyway. But still it is so, and all the money he may have left behind him won't make me feel different." "We shall be rich, I hope, anyway," speculated Phyllis. "I suppose we shall; and that's the only bright thing about it." "'Twill be funny not walking first behind the coffin, and not sitting in the mourners' pew after for the Sunday sermon; and we knowing all the time that's where we ought to be," said the younger; but Cora exploded the theory.