The village chapel has no graveyard; villagers must go to rest in the churchyard two miles away. Many of the graves have headstones and those that haven't have their jam-jars of flowers, but in a corner there's one grave with an unreadable headstone, overgrown with weeds and the grass never tended. The identity of the remains that lie beneath are often pondered by those with romantic ideas. Winifred Foley traces the lives of two generations who are touched with tragedy, but also raised by the heights of selfless love.