Merle chattered blithely about how he would come back to see them, with unfortunate effects upon Mrs.Penniman.
The Wilbur twin knew this atmosphere.

When little Georgie Finkboner had died a few months before, had he not been taken to the house of mourning and compelled to stay through a distressing funeral?
It was like that now, and he was uncomfortable beyond endurance.

Twice Winona had reminded him that he must go and put on his own Sunday clothes--nothing less than this would be thought suitable.

He had said he would, but had dawdled skillfully and was still unfitly in bare feet and the shabby garments of a weekday.

He knew definitely now that he was not going to be present at this terrible ceremony.
He had no doubt there would be a ceremony--all the Whipples arriving in their own Sunday clothes, maybe the preacher coming with them; and they would sit silently in the parlour the way they did at the Finkboner house, and maybe the preacher would talk, and maybe they would sing or pray or something, and then they would take Merle away.