He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. “Just hope that the ground doesn’t shift and unearth them. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor. For some days we shall be very idle there among the trees and rocks. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. His heir is dead, yes, and his name and title available to me.
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