Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. Winifred's reception was kind, but more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she resumed her occupation. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him.
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