“—We used to wonder what we’d do if we ever had a bit of money. Of course, we never dreamed of anything like this.” Her eyes wandered proudly over her possessions.
“Yes,” said the tailor, joining in. “Our best dreams never came near this. I’d seen such places, but never thought to live in one, much less own one.”
“Well, you see, sir,” said his sister taking up the thread of her story, “there was one thing I’d always set my mind on—a nice place to lie in when I was dead. I had a horror of cemeteries, great ugly places, as you might say, with the tombstones sticking up like almonds in a tipsy cake pudding, and a lot of dirty children playing about. I lived for ten years in London, in a room that overlooked one, a most dingy place I called it. I couldn’t bear to think I’d be popped in with a crowd, anyhow. Now, a churchyard in the country—that’s quite different.”
“I’d a great fancy for a spot I knew in Kent,” said the tailor. “Dark Yew trees all round one side, and Daisies over everything, and a seat near by for people to rest on, coming early to church.”
“Go on, Tom,” said his sister lovingly. “Ar’n’t you satisfied with what you’ve got?”
He turned to me after putting his arm through his sister’s. “We’ve got our piece of ground,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to be planted next to her, on the left of the church door—well, it’s as good a place as you’d find anywhere, and people coming out of church will notice us easily. I’d like to be thought of, after I’m gone.”
Death held no terrors for these people, it seemed, they talked so happily of it, made such delightful plans to welcome it; robbed it of all its gloom and horror, its false trappings, its dingy grandeur.
There was a flaunting Red Admiral sunning its wings on the tombstone.
“I never thought,” said the sister, “I should find just what I wanted by accident. Isn’t it lovely?”
It certainly had a beauty of its own. It was a copy of an early eighteenth century tombstone, the top in three arches, the centre arch large, and round, ending in carved scroll work. In the centre of the arch a cherub was carved, very fat and smiling, with wings on either side of his head. Then, in good deep-cut lettering, were the words: