But before she could think long on any of it, after looking at the priest who offered her some dirt to toss onto her mother's lowering casket, when she looked up again, No Face was gone.
The third form of death came for Barbara the following night, on Christmas Eve. Gail invited Barbara to join her family for the evening, and with mixed feelings about grieving for her mother and interrupting her great friend's holiday, she accepted.
Near Lake Michigan in Winnetka, the huge Tudor mansion Gail lived in with her parents was the most beautiful house Barbara had ever seen, especially as it was decorated for Christmas. A huge, brightly-lighted Yule tree stood in the spacious living room, its angel-adorned top almost touching the dark oak-beamed stratosphere at the ceiling. The railing of the winding oak staircase leading from the foyer to the bedrooms upstairs was wound with evergreen boughs and decorated with pine cones.
A roaring, crackling log fire in the fireplace and flickering candles on the mantle and tables gave a warm glow to the room.
The third death came then to Barbara, after sipping a steamy glass of hot spiced wine with Gail and her parents, in front of the tree.
"Look!" Gail said eagerly and happily when she and Barbara were alone in her room before Christmas dinner.
She held out her left hand and proudly showed what she wore on the third finger. It was the most beautiful ring Barbara had ever seen, yet it was just a simple white gold band with a not very expensive diamond setting.
The ring came as such a surprise to Barbara, she could not even guess who had given it to her friend.
After only another moment, words of ecstatic joy burst from Gail Eaton's deliriously happy heart.
"Paul and I are engaged to be married!"