He sent the flowers—a pillow of pansies—with “Father,” in the center, and the first tears Louie had shed fell upon the floral offering, which was followed by many more, until on the day of the funeral the house was like a garden and filled with the perfume of roses and lilies and pinks. So many flowers seemed out of place for a man who had wrought so much mischief as Mr. Grey, but the memory of his misdeeds was forgotten for the time in sympathy for his wife and daughter. Nancy Sharp was not behind with her gift, and one of the silver dollars which Mr. Blake had paid her, and which she had kept tied up in a stocking, was spent for a bouquet which she laid upon the coffin, with a rather soiled card, bearing the words, “Nancy Sharp, Her flours. Rest your sole.”
It was a very large funeral, for nearly every creditor was present, with many who had never done business with the dead man. Judge White came early, and when he saw Jack and Jill, he said to the undertaker: “Take my carriage. Yes, sir—take mine for the mourners.”
There were only two real ones, Louie and her mother, but many went to the grave; Nancy Sharp, with a black ribbon on her bonnet and a black shawl on her shoulders, riding in state in Judge White’s carriage, with three more of her companions. As the preferred creditor, she felt herself entitled to a prominent place, and when the White carriage came up she was the first to get in, saying to her friends who stood near her:
“Come in, girls. It’s your only chance to ride on satin cushions.”
As the judge had given up his carriage he decided to walk into town and wait for it. Standing aside to let the procession pass he caught sight of Nancy her face radiant with triumph, although she tried to look solemn, as befitted the occasion. For a moment the judge stood speechless. Then he began with his favorite expression, “By the Lord Harry,” but remembering that was hardly the time for an explosion, he bottled his wrath till he reached home, which he did on foot, without waiting in town.
“What do you think?” he said to his wife, “I gave up the carriage, thinking the widder might go in it, and was padding along in the dirt and dust—and such a dust and heat for October—when who should come riding by in my carriage—on my cushions—but old Nancy Sharp and three more fishwomen like her. I tell you I won’t stand it. Who knows what catching thing they had in their clothes? I’ll have it fumigated with a sulphur candle, by the Lord Harry, I will! Nancy Sharp riding in my carriage! mine! to Tom Grey’s funeral! and such a funeral! Why, you’d s’pose ’twas the Governor they was burying. Yes, sir! the Governor! Everybody was there but you. House full—yard full—ten carriages full, besides the hearse and clergyman and bearers—and honorary bearers—and more’n a hundred dollars worth of flowers, I’ll bet. Why, they couldn’t do any more for me, than they’ve done for Tom Grey; and Nancy Sharp in my carriage! Mine! and bobbing at me as she passed! I won’t stand it! No, sir!”
Just what he did to his carriage is not known. Probably nothing, as his mind was diverted into another channel by a letter David brought him when he came from the burial, after having deposited each of the fishwomen at her door in White’s Row. The letter was from Herbert, asking his father to interest himself a little in Mrs. Grey and Louie, now that they were left alone.
“I don’t know what they have to live on as I hear they are paying debts with the money received for the house, and I don’t suppose they would take anything from me,” he wrote; “but you and mother can help them, and you owe them something for what Louie did for us.”
“Great guns! Why is he everlastingly harping on that?” the judge exclaimed. “And he is fool enough to s’pose that a girl who threw him over would accept help from me? No, sir! Proud as Lucifer, but it won’t do to let ’em starve. I’ll sound Blake, and find how the land lays, and maybe I’ll start a subscription. I’ll head it with ten dollars.”
The judge felt himself a very generous man after this decision, but his ten dollars were never needed. Other forces were at work for Mrs. Grey and Louie, and within three weeks after Mr. Grey’s death there came a letter from Miss Percy, urging Louie to come abroad at once with her mother, who would be greatly benefited by the sea voyage.