Читать книгу Through Welsh Doorways - Jeannette Augustus Marks - Страница 10

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“I don’t know,” said Olwyn Evans, in a resigned voice, “I don’t know but it was best. The Wynneses always had fewer chances than the Joneses. Hugh Wynne didn’t say much, but I could see he was happy, an’ the Wynne girls was so pleased. They said as long as their mother had to go she couldn’t have done better, the stone’ll look so pretty with it all writ on it; an’ then the hearse an’ their mournin’ did look so nice together.”

“There was a good many folks there?” suggested Griffiths.

“Aye, there was; I thought it was more’n pleasant for all the Joneses to come, because they must feel disappointed with Jane Jones still livin’.”

“Is she the same?” asked Griffiths.

“Aye, no worse.”

“There was people at the funeral from Tremadoc,” added Betty.

“From Tremadoc and from Rhyd Dhu, too. Some haven’t ever seen a real hearse before. A cart to draw the coffin in is all the Rhyd Dhu folks know,” concluded Olwyn.

“They say the plate on the coffin was more’n filled with money,” added Betty.

“Aye, it was,” said Olwyn; “there was more’n enough to pay both the doctor an’ the minister. It does the town good to have a lot of folks here. They wasn’t all interested in Jane Wynne, but they was interested in seein’ which’d die first, an’ in the hearse. I suppose they wanted to come an’ make sure she really was dead. Well, you never did better by Bryn Tirion, Griffith.”

“Aye,” said Griffith, tapping his finger-tips together and smiling contentedly at the row of big-eyed, whiskered cats, “aye, it’s an assistance.”