The Welfare of the Dead by Lee Jackson

humours. ‘He certainly looks well cared for,’ she replies at last.
    â€˜Oh, I should think so. I expect it is quite delightful for him to receive such attention, and have as much food as he likes and so on. Well, come on, Lucy, we have seen your favourite. We may go back now. We can go through the park.’
    â€˜But Mama!’ pleads the little girl.
    â€˜No “buts”, my dear. Come.’
    There is some argument. Lucinda Woodrow resists the injunctions of her parent in the most solemn anddetermined manner imaginable, until a mixture of threats and gentle coaxing finally persuade her to abandon her place by the railings. Once this is achieved, it is a more simple matter for them to make their way to the entrance to the Zoological Gardens, and out into the neatly kept paths of Regent’s Park.
    â€˜What did you make of the Zoo, my dear?’ asks Mrs. Woodrow of her cousin, as they stroll towards the Inner Circle of the park, where numerous carriages are parked.
    â€˜Oh, very pleasant – I have never seen quite so many different animals.’
    â€˜And what about you, Lucinda?’
    â€˜I like the hippo.’
    â€˜Yes, well, that is not in doubt, although I am not quite sure why you should do so to such a degree.’
    Mrs. Woodrow pauses, as she notices a figure walking briskly along a nearby path that intersects with theirs.
    â€˜Why, would you believe it? It is Mr. Langley,’ she says, nodding in his direction.
    â€˜But he has not noticed us,’ replies Annabel, waving. ‘Mr. Langley, over here!’
    â€˜Really, Annabel,’ says Mrs. Woodrow in an urgent whisper, ‘you ought not make quite such a display. People are staring.’
    Annabel looks suitably chastened, but her apology is cut short as Richard Langley raises his hat, and changes his course. In a moment, he stands before them.
    â€˜Mrs. Woodrow, Miss Krout, how delightful to see you. I trust you are both well. Have you recovered from the train, Miss Krout?’
    â€˜I think so,’ she replies.
    â€˜And I hope your baggage found its way to Duncan Terrace?’
    â€˜Yes, it has, thank you,’ replies Annabel. It strikes her that she should say something more, but she struggles to find suitable words.
    â€˜Mrs. Woodrow is showing you the sights of London, no doubt?’
    â€˜Oh yes,’ she replies, eagerly, ‘the park is so charming.’
    â€˜And what brings you here, Mr. Langley?’ asks Mrs. Woodrow.
    â€˜I live in St. John’s Wood, if you recall, ma’am; it is not far. I regularly walk this way into town, if the weather permits. I am hoping to see your husband, as it happens, as we could not meet yesterday.’
    â€˜I am sure you will find him at his office,’ replies Mrs. Woodrow. ‘I would offer you our brougham, but there is barely space for two of us, let alone Lucy and yourself.’
    â€˜Lucy?’
    â€˜Why, yes, you’ve met Lucy, have you not? We have come from the Zoological . . .’
    Mrs. Woodrow’s sentence trails off as she looks around for her daughter, who is nowhere to be seen.

    Lucy Woodrow walks back through the gates to the Zoo, behind a large woman and two little boys, a year or so younger than herself, in matching blue and white sailor-suits.
    She tries to recall where to find the elephants. Then she sees one in the distance, and runs towards it. It is not hard to catch up; the elephants plod ever so slowly, and she has never seen the keepers use their whips. She walks behind the great animal, watching its tail twitch now and then, its great feet crunching footprints into the gravel. She waves to a girl seated on top of the animal, and the girl waves back.

    â€˜She cannot have gone far, ma’am,’ says Richard Langley.
    Mrs. Woodrow looks anxiously about her. ‘No, no, I am sure. We must be calm, my dear,’ she says, grasping her cousin’s arm, though Annabel herself seems more