This marble block was set upright，iron railings marked the boundary of the plot that had been bought，and every inch of ground was covered with white camellias.
'What do you say to that？'said the gardener.
'It's very beautiful.'
'And every time a camellia withers，my orders are to put another one in its place.'
'And who gave you your orders？'
'A young chap who cried a lot the first time he came.An old gentleman friend of the departed，I'll be bound，because they do say she was a bit of a one，you know.I hear tell she was very bonny.Did you know her，sir？'
'Yes.'
'Like the other chap，'the gardener said with a knowing grin.
'No，I never spike to her.'
'But you've come to see her here；that's very nice of you，because people who come to see the poor girl don't exactly clutter up the cemetery.'
'So no one comes？'
'Nobody，except that young chap who came once.'
'Just once？'
'Yes，sir.'
'And he never returned？'
'No，but he'll come as soon as he gets back.'
'He's away travelling，then？'
'Yes.'
'And do you know where he is？'
'I do believe he's gone to see Mademoiselle Gautier's sister.'
'What's he doing there？'
'He's going to ask authorization to exhume the body and have it put somewhere else.'
'Why shouldn't he leave her here？'
'You know，sir，people get queer ideas about the departed.See it all the time，we do.This plot was bought for five years only，and that young chap wants a plot in perpetuity and a larger bit of ground：in the new part would be best.'
'What do you call the new part？'
'The new plots that are being sold just now，to your left.If the cemetery had always been kept like it is nowadays，there wouldn't have been another like it in the world；but there's still a lot to do before it's just like it should be.And then，folk are so queer.'
'What do you mean？'
'I mean that there's people who even bring their pride in here.Take this Mademoiselle Gautier.Seems she'd been around a bit，if you'll pardon the expression.She's dead now，is that poor young woman；there's as much left of her as of other women you couldn't say a word against whose resting places we keep watering every day.Well now，when the relatives of them as are buried next to her found out who she was，blow me if they didn't up and say they was against putting her here，and that there ought to be ground set apart for women of her sort，like there is for the poor.Ever hear the like of it？I told them straight，I did；very well-to-do folks who can't even come four times a year to pay their respects to their departed.They bring their own flowers and some flowers they are too，are very particular about arranging upkeep for them as they say they mourn，inscribe on their tombstones the tears they never shed，and are very fussy about who is buried next door.Believe me if you like，sir，I didn't know this young lady，I've no idea what she got up to.But I tell you，I love that poor little girl and I take good care of her，and I let her have the camellias at a very fair price.Of all the departed，she's my favourite.Here，sir，we're obliged to love the dead，for we're kept so busy that we hardly have time to love anything else.'
