his lady's widowhood, and of her return to town All that remained of my Lord Dunstanwolde was borne back to his ancestral home, and there laid to rest in the ancient tomb in which his fathers slept.

Many came from town to pay him respect, and the Duke of Osmonde was, as was but fitting, among them.

The countess kept her own apartments, and none but her sister, Mistress Anne, beheld her.
The night before the final ceremonies she spent sitting by her lord's coffin, and to Anne it seemed that her mood was a stranger one, than ever woman had before been ruled by.

She did not weep or moan, and only once kneeled down.

In her sweeping black robes she seemed more a majestic creature than she had ever been, and her beauty more that of a statue than of a mortal woman.