The minister was speaking.
“Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.”
Kendall was not listening to the service. She was thinking about the red dress. Her father had telephoned her in New York one afternoon.
“So you’ve become a big-shot designer, have you? Well, let’s see how good you are. I’m taking my new girlfriend to a charity ball Saturday night. She’s your size. I want you to design a dress for her.”
“By Saturday? I can’t, Father. I…”
“You’ll do it.”
And she had designed the ugliest dress she could conceive of. It had a large black bow in front and yards of ribbons and lace. It was a monstrosity. She had sent it to her father, and he had telephoned her again.
“I got the dress. By the way, my girlfriend can’t make it Saturday, so you’re going to be my date, and you’re going to wear that dress.”
“No!”
And then the terrible phrase: “You don’t want to disappoint me, do you?”
And she had gone, not daring to change the dress, and had spent the most humiliating evening of her life.
“For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.
“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!”
Peggy Stanford was uncomfortable. She was awed by the splendor of the huge church and the elegant-looking people in it. She had never been to Boston before, and to her it meant the world of Stanfords, with all its pomp and glory. These people were so much better than she was. She took her husband’s hand.
“All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field…The grass withereth, the flower fad-eth; but the word of our God shall stand forever.”
Marc was thinking about the blackmail letter that his wife had received. It had been worded very carefully, very cleverly. It would be impossible to find out who was behind it. He looked at Kendall, seated next to him, pale and tense. How much more can she take? he wondered. He moved closer to her.
“…Unto God’s gracious mercy and protection we commit you. The Lord bless you and keep you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious unto you. The Lord lift up the light of his countenance upon you and give you peace, now and for ever. Amen.”
With the service finished, the minister announced, “The burial services will be private—family members only.”
Tyler looked at the coffin and thought about the body inside. Last night, before the casket was sealed, he had gone straight from Boston’s Logan International Airport to the viewing at the funeral home.
He wanted to see his father dead.
Woody watched as the coffin was carried out of the church past the staring mourners, and he smiled: Give the people what they want.
The graveside ceremony at the old Mount Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge was brief. The family watched Harry Stanford’s body being lowered to its final resting place, and as the dirt was being thrown onto the casket, the minister said, “There’s no need for you to stay any longer if you don’t wish to.”
Woody nodded. “Right.” The effect of the heroin was beginning to wear off, and he was starting to feel jittery. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Marc said, “Where are we going?”
Tyler turned to the group. “We’re staying at Rose Hill. It’s all been arranged. We’ll stay there until the estate is settled.”
A few minutes later, they were in limousines on their way to the house.
Boston had a strict social hierarchy. The nouveau riche lived on Commonwealth Avenue, and the social climbers on Newbury Street. Less-affluent old families lived on Marlborough Street. Back Bay was the city’s newest and most prestigious address, but Beacon Hill was still the citadel for Boston’s oldest and wealthiest families. It was a rich mixture of Victorian town houses and brownstones, old churches, and chic shopping areas.
Rose Hill, the Stanford estate, was a beautiful old Victorian house that stood amid three acres of land on Beacon Hill. The house that the Stanford children had grown up in was filled with unpleasant memories. When the limousines arrived in front of the house, the passengers got out and stared up at the old mansion.