‘What does faith mean if you are right about it?’ she said.
‘It means nothing. It is without meaning.’
‘And are you prepared to abide by that?’
Again there was silence. She sat a little apart from me, so that her questions came from the darkness; they were put impersonally, so to speak, not by Helen, but just by a voice.
‘Do you believe that Margery and Dick are nothing now except grass and flowers, and perhaps a little bit of the lives of other people? Do you really believe it? And is Legs nothing now?’
It was quite still. We had come to a very sequestered corner of the great house of life to talk about these things. In front was the shadow of the grave, and over it now lay the shadow of the tower. Once from the grave’s side a few pebbles detached themselves and fell rattling to the bottom, and I had no answer to this. Three days ago I had asked myself the same questions, and what I call my brain answered them; but now it gave no answer. Something, I suppose, had made it uncertain.
‘How can the wheel of an omnibus hurt Legs?’ she asked. ‘It can do no more than hurt his body.’
Then she came closer to me again.
‘And what does love mean?’ she said.
I think Legs must have enjoyed his funeral next day, because it was so extremely funny, and I think by this time that you know enough about him and Helen and me to allow us all to be amused at it. We had sent a note to our Vicar saying that we should like the A flat Prelude, and the Psalm, and the hymn which I have mentioned. He came in person, not to remonstrate, but to put on to us the correcter attitude. Death was a solemn occasion. There was none so solemn, and the Hymns Ancient and Modern provided some very suitable verses to be sung—‘Now the labourer’s task is o’er,’ for instance. (Legs a labourer, who was the most gorgeous player at life that has ever been seen!) Besides, surely a Christmas hymn was out of place, when it would be Ash Wednesday in no time. I said feebly that a Christmas hymn was surely always in place; but dear Mr. Eversley looked pained, and Helen at once yielded. She was sure that the ‘labourer’s task’ was most suitable.