"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."