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Updated: May 24, 2025
Every detail of the house the stairs, the hall, the windows, the clocks, the pot-pourri scent from the bowls of dried roses, the dance of the dust in the light of the rising sun, was presented to him now with a new meaning.
"Do they believe them at Greenwood?" "I don't know. Ludwell Cary is still away " "When are you going to marry his brother?" "Why, I don't know that I am going to marry his brother at all," answered Unity, her foot upon the coach step. "Good-bye, Cousin Jane. I wish I could make pot-pourri like yours." "You must know what spices to use, and when to gather the roses," said Cousin Jane.
The faint odour of orris-root that floated forth as I let down the flap, seemed to identify itself with the yellows and browns of the old wood, till hue and scent were of one quality and interchangeable. Even so, ere this, the pot-pourri had mixed itself with the tints of the old brocade, and brocade and pot-pourri had long been one.
It stood outside the little town. It was pointed out to him in the distance, across billowy clouds of pear and apple-blossom, making the hollow in which the town nestled seem a vast pot-pourri jar, overflowing with newly gathered rose-leaves.
In the hall stood great china jars with pierced covers, which were always full of pot-pourri; there was another in the library, and another in Father Payne's study, and two more in the passage above which looked out by the little gallery upon the hall.
Griselda felt her way as best she could, past the Chinese cabinet and the pot-pourri jar till she got to the ante-room door. It was open, and now, knowing her way better, she hurried in. But what was the use? All was silent, save the tick-tick of the cuckoo clock in the corner. Oh, if only the cuckoo would come out and call the hour as usual, what a weight would be lifted off Griselda's heart!
There was the writing-table whereon I had copied out the death certificate; the big fireplace, now empty, and the deep chair in which I had sat. There was the window, too the window which I had opened in order to gasp for air after that suffocating odour of pot-pourri. As I stood there the watchful caretaker with his eye upon me, wondering no doubt I again took in every detail.
As usual in a pot-pourri, it was far enough above worthlessness not to be ignored, but so far short of excellence as not to be admired. In France during this century there was an army of women artists, painters, sculptors, and engravers.
The organist is engaged by some one interested in making the arrangements, and is supposed to be in his place for a half-hour or so before the hour of the ceremony; and while the guests are assembling he discourses music appropriate to the occasion a rambling, meditative pot-pourri of sweet and pathetic sentimental songs being a popular and effective choice.
He could see, in imagination, the great white-and-pink china pot-pourri bowls standing at the corner of the stairs nothing was changed.
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