noon
Nobody for a moment imagined that Honoria Eversleigh might possibly be the innocent victim of the villany of others . The funeral of Sir Oswald Eversleigh was conducted with all the pomp and splendour befitting the burial of a man whose race had held the land for centuries , with untarnished fame and honour . The day of the funeral was dark , cold , and gloomy ; stormy winds howled and shrieked among the oaks and beeches of Raynham Park . The tall firs in the avenue were tossed to and fro in the blast , like the funereal plumes of that stately hearse which was to issue at noon from the quadrangle of the castle . It was difficult to believe that less than a fortnight had elapsed since that bright and balmy day on which the picnic had been held at the Wizard 's Cave . Lady Eversleigh had declared her intention of following her husband to his last resting-place . She had been told that it was unusual for women of the higher classes to take part in a funeral _ cortège _ ; but she had stedfastly adhered to her resolution .