Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 29/241

"Used to be a bit of a spring here," he said with a nod to me; "might be

a little damp."

Then he would leave a couple of cats, "just for company like," he would

say, and then go softly away.

I did not realise it was so near when that terrible time came and I

followed my poor mother to her grave, seeing everything about me in a

strange, unnatural manner. One minute it seemed to be real; then again

as if it were all a dream. There were people about me in black, and I

was in black, but I was half stunned, listening to the words that were

said; and at last I was left almost alone, for those who were with me

stepped back a yard or two.

I was gazing down with my eyes dimmed and a strange aching feeling at my

heart, when I felt someone touch my elbow, and turning round to follow

whoever it was, I found old Brownsmith there, in his black clothes and

white neckerchief, holding an enormous bunch of white roses in his arms.

"Thought you'd like it, my lad," he said in a low husky voice. "She

used to be very fond o' my white roses, poor soul!"

As he spoke he nodded and took his great pruning-knife from his coat

pocket, opened it with his teeth, and cut the strip of sweet-scented

Russia mat. Then holding them ready in his arms he stood there while I

slowly scattered the beautiful flowers down more and more, more and

more, till the coffin was nearly covered, and instead of the black cloth

I saw beneath me the fragrant heap of flowers, and the dear, loving face

that had gazed so tenderly in mine seemed once more to be looking in my

eyes.

I held the last two roses in my hand for a moment or two, hesitating,

but I let them fall at last; and then the tears I had kept back so long

came with a rush, and I sank down on my knees sobbing as if my heart

would break.

It was one of my uncles who laid his hand upon my shoulder and made me

start as he bent over me, and said in a low, chilling voice: "Get up, my boy; we are going back. Come!--be a man!"

I did get up in a weary, wretched way, and as I did so I looked round

after old Brownsmith, and there he was a little distance off, watching

me, it seemed. Then we went back, my relatives who were there taking

very little notice of me; and I was made the more wretched by hearing

one cousin, whom I had never seen before, say angrily that he did not

approve of that last scene being made--"such an exhibition with those

flowers."