"
"Ellum be more--" began Mary, then held her tongue upon that detail and
approached another.
"Shall us ask Mrs. Tregenza? Sorrer be gripping her heart just now, but a
buryin's a soothin' circumstance to such as she. An' she could carry her
son in the mind. Poor young Tom won't get no good words said above his
dust; us can awnly think 'em for him."
"She might like to come if her could get some o' the neighbors to bide
along wi' Michael. He'm daft for all time, but 'tis said as he'll be
childlike wi' it, thank God. I let en knaw 'bout the lass an' he rolled his
head an' dropped his jaw, like to a feesh, an' said as 'tweern't no news to
en. Which maybe it weern't, for the Lard's got His awn way wi' the idiot.
The sayin's of en! Like as not Thomasin'll be here if 'tis awnly to get the
rids of Michael for a while."
The coroner's inquest found that Joan Tregenza had come by her death from
drowning upon the night of the flood; the tragedy filled an obscure
paragraph or two in local journals; Joan's funeral was fixed for two days
later, and Mrs. Tregenza decided that she would attend it.
At a spot where fell the shadow of the church when the sun sank far
westerly on summer days, they dug the grave in Sancreed churchyard. Round
about it on slate slabs and upright stones appeared the names of Chirgwins
not a few. Her maternal grandparents lay there, her uncle, Mary's father,
and many others.
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