ODOUR OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS

rocked herself and moaned. Elizabeth remembered
that they were bringing him home, and she must be
ready. " They'll lay him in the parlour," she said
to herself, standing a moment pale and perplexed.

Then she lighted a candle and went into the tiny
room. The air was cold and damp, but she could
not make a fire, there was no fireplace. She set
down the candle and looked round. The candle-
light glittered on the lustre-glasses, on the two
vases that held some of the pink chrysanthemums,
and on the dark mahogany. There was a cold,
deathly smell of chrysanthemums in the room.
Elizabeth stood looking at the flowers. She turned
away, and calculated whether there would be room
to lay him on the floor, between the couch and the
chiffonier. She pushed the chairs aside. There
would be room to lay him down and to step round
him. Then she fetched the old red tablecloth, and
another old cloth, spreading them down to save her
bit of carpet. She shivered on leaving the parlour ;
so, from the dresser-drawer she took a clean shirt
and put it at the fire to air. All the time her
mother-in-law was rocking herself in the chair and
moaning.

" You'll have to move from there, mother," said
Elizabeth. " They'll be bringing him in. Come in
the rocker."

The old mother rose mechanically, and seated
herself by the fire, continuing to lament. Elizabeth
went into the pantry for another candle, and there,
in the little penthouse under the naked tiles, she
heard them coming. She stood still in the pantry
doorway, listening. She heard them pass the end