If Mrs.De Peyster could only see the beautiful floral tributes that were arriving, particularly the large wreath sent by Mrs.Allistair-- But Mrs.De Peyster heard none of this.

She was dead! She was to be buried! She could never come home again! At length her lips moved--slowly, stiffly, as might the lips of a dead person.
"What are we going to do ?" "I've been saying that same question to myself for days, ma'am," quavered Matilda.

"And I--I don't see any answer." No, there was nothing she could do.

Mrs.De Peyster continued her glazed stare at her faithful serving-woman.

In the first few minutes her mind had been able to take in the significance only to herself of this culminating disaster.