86 Make-Beleve

spy upon her sorrow, he went away to
that part of the garden in which he knew
the cemetery lay.

The garden was utterly void of flowers,
and as yet no token of life had appeared
above the earth. He descended the steep,
grey-gravelled path, and stood beside the
little pit in the wet earth. Again the little
song came to him, and he whistled idly as
he waited for Doris.

The gardener was working in an obscure
corner. He stuck his spade into the earth
and came across to the grave which he had
dug at the child’s request. “Have ’ee
heered tell of the funeral?” he asked, in
the most subdued of voices.

“T am here to help,” said the Visitor.
‘“ Do you know that she is going?”

“Know it?” cried the old man. “I've
known it for days, and felt worse than I can
‘ee all the time, for she would come down
as usual, and she was all the time talking
about what she would do in the spring,
when the daffodils was here again, and