Their faint perfume stole through the
other odours. The old butler fixed his eyes on it.
'The poor woman bought that,' he thought, 'hopin' for to remind him of
old days. "She had them flowers on her weddin'-day, I shouldn't wonder!"
This poetical conception surprising him, he turned towards the little
boy, and said "This 'll be a memorial to you, as you gets older." And
without another word all sat down. They ate in silence, and the old
butler thought 'That 'addick ain't what it was; but a beautiful cup
o' tea. He don't eat nothing; he's more ameniable to reason than I
expected. There's no one won't be too pleased to see him now!'
His eyes, travelling to the spot from which the bayonet had been
removed, rested on the print of the Nativity. "'Suffer little children
to come unto Me,'" he thought, "'and forbid them not." He'll be glad to
hear there was two carriages followed him home.'
And, taking his time, he cleared his throat in preparation for speech.
But before the singular muteness of this family sounds would not come.
Finishing his tea, he tremblingly arose. Things that he might have said
jostled in his mind. 'Very pleased to 'a seen you. Hope you're in good
health at the present time of speaking. Don't let me intrude on you.
We've all a-got to die some time or other!' They remained unuttered.
Pages:
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375