They came out of the house again by the prospective back door, and picked their way through builder's litter across the yard space to the road again. They drew nearer the junction to where a pavement and shops already open and active formed the commercial centre of Easewood. On the opposite side of the way the side door of a flourishing little establishment opened, and a man and his wife and a little boy in a sailor suit came into the street. The wife was a pretty woman in brown with a floriferous straw hat, and the group was altogether very Sundayfied and shiny and spick and span. The shop itself had a large plate-glass window whose contents were now veiled by a buff blind on which was inscribed in scrolly letters: "Rymer, Pork Butcher and Provision Merchant," and then with voluptuous elaboration: "The World-Famed Easewood Sausage." Greetings were exchanged between Mr. Johnson and this distinguished comestible. "Off to church already?" said Johnson. "Walking across the fields to Little Dorington," said Mr. Rymer. "Very pleasant walk," said Johnson. "Very," said Mr. Rymer. "Hope you'll enjoy it," said Mr. Johnson. "That chap's done well," said Johnson _sotto voce_ as they went on. "Came here with nothing--practically, four years ago. And as thin as a lath. Look at him now! "He's worked hard of course," said Johnson, improving the occasion. Thought fell between the cousins for a space. "Some men can do one thing," said Johnson, "and some another.... For a man who sticks to it there's a lot to be done in a shop." III All the preparations for the funeral ran easily and happily under Mrs. Johnson's skilful hands. On the eve of the sad event she produced a reserve of black sateen, the kitchen steps and a box of tin-tacks, and decorated the house with festoons and bows of black in the best possible taste. She tied up the knocker with black crape, and put a large bow over the corner of the steel engraving of Garibaldi, and swathed the bust of Mr. Gladstone, that had belonged to the deceased, with inky swathings. She turned the two vases that had views of Tivoli and the Bay of Naples round, so that these rather brilliant landscapes were hidden and only the plain blue enamel showed, and she anticipated the long-contemplated purchase of a tablecloth for the front room, and substituted a violet purple cover for the now very worn and faded raptures and roses in plushette that had hitherto done duty there. Everything that loving consideration could do to impart a dignified solemnity to her little home was done.