Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden
Page 29"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
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
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
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."