She was not playing at all, but sitting, with feet crossed beneath her on the seat and hands clasped about one knee, thinking.

And, although she was thinking of her stepfather who she knew had gone away to a vague place called Heaven--a place variously described by Mrs.Bailey, the former housekeeper, and by Mrs.Susan Hobbs, the present one, and by Mr.Howes, the Sunday school superintendent--she was thinking most of herself, Mary Augusta Lathrop, who was going to a funeral that very afternoon and, after that, no one seemed to know exactly where.
It was a beautiful April day and the doors of the carriage house and the big door of the barn were wide open.

Mary-'Gusta could hear the hens clucking and the voices of people talking.

The voices were two: one was that of Mrs.Hobbs, the housekeeper, and the other belonged to Mr.Abner Hallett, the undertaker.

Mary-'Gusta did not like Mr.Hallett's voice; she liked neither it nor its owner's manner; she described both voice and manner to herself as "too soothy." They gave her the shivers.
Mr.Hallett's tone was subdued at the present time, but a trifle of the professional "soothiness" was lacking.