"Here; take my handkerchief.

I've got a nice lot in the cemetery, and I'm goin' to have a monument, with two lambs on it--like the one you always liked so much.
It ain't the fashion, any more, to have family buryin' grounds; they're collectin' 'em into the cemeteries, all round." "I reckon I got to bear it," said his wife, muffling her face in his handkerchief.

"And I suppose the Lord kin find me, wherever I am.

But I always did want to lay just there.

You mind how we used to go out and set there, after milkin', and watch the sun go down, and talk about where their angels was, and try to figger it out ?" "I remember, 'Liz'beth." The man's voice in the drawing-room sang a snatch of French song, insolent, mocking, salient; and then Christine's attempted the same strain, and another cry of laughter from Mela followed.
"Well, I always did expect to lay there.