Then, in a moment, the front doors opened and a funeral party emerged.  First came August Daer Nol, carrying a creped mace.  Behind him walked the six pall-bearers with the casket.  And now all the people who had been standing outside the church fell into line behind this funeral party.  Then it was in order to do honour to this person they had come.

The coffin was carried down to the town hall and placed beside the one already there.  August Daer Nol arranged the trestles so that the two coffins would rest side by side.  The second coffin was not so new and shiny as Katrina’s.  It looked as if it had been washed by many rains, and had seen rough handling, for it was both scratched and broken at the edges.

All the folk from the Ashdales suddenly caught their breath.  For then they knew it was not a Daer Nol that lay in this coffin!  And they also knew that it was not for the sake of some stranger of exalted rank that so many people had come out to church.  Instantly every one looked at Glory Goldie, to see whether she understood.  It was plain she did.

Glory Goldie, pale and heart-broken, had been standing all the while by her mother’s coffin, and as she recognized the one that had been brought from the Daer Nol home she was beside herself with joy as one becomes when gaining something for which one has long been striving.  However, she immediately controlled her emotion.  Then, smiling wistfully, she lightly stroked the lid of Katrina’s coffin.

“Now it has turned out as well for you as ever you could have wished,” she seemed to be saying to her dead mother.

August Daer Nol then stepped up to Glory Goldie and took her by the hand.  “No doubt this arrangement is satisfactory to you,” he said.  “We found him only last Friday.  I thought it would be easier for you this way.”

Glory Goldie stammered a few words, but her lips quavered so that she could hardly be understood.  “Thanks.  It’s all right.  I know he has come to mother, and not to me.”

“He has come to you both, be assured of that, Glory Goldie!” said August Daer Nol.

The old mistress of Falla, who was now well on toward eighty and bowed down by the weight of many sorrows, had come to the funeral out of regard for Katrina, who for many years had been her faithful servant and friend.  She had brought with her the imperial cap and stick, which had been returned to her after Jan’s death.  She intended to place them in the grave with Katrina, thinking the old woman would like to have with her some reminder of Jan.

Presently Glory Goldie turned to the old mistress of Falla and asked her for the imperial regalia, and then she stood the long stick up against Jan’s coffin and set the cap on top of the stick.  Every one understood that she was sorry now that she had not wanted Jan to deck himself out in these emblems of royalty and was trying to make what slight amends she could.  There is so little that one can do for the dead!