The most eminent men in the kingdom carried torches before it, the most distinguished ladies in the land were among the mourners that followed after it.
Custom demanded that the heir, the eldest son, should accompany his father's coffin.

But as the heir was only six months old, he had to be carried, and it was Lady Szentirmay who carried him in her bosom.

And every one who saw it maintained that she embraced and protected the child as tenderly as if she were really its mother.
Happy child! The good old Nabob was committed to his last resting-place by the selfsame priest who had spoken such consolatory words over the body of his wife.

There was much weeping, but the one who wept the most was the priest himself, who ought to have comforted the others.
Then they lowered him down into those silent mansions where the dead have their habitation, and they laid him by the side of his departed wife as he had desired.

The last hymns sounded so ghostly down in the vault there as the wailing chant ascended up through the earth, even those who wept made haste to depart from thence and get into the light of day once more.