Blink of an eye three years of study in career is over. Mrs Leave Melbourne before I came to Houston's graveyard. She was my part-time job the hostess. I see myself with wild flowers and pine into flower ring squarely on her grave, and in not far from her tombstone on the elm money quietly. Lady, goodbye! Tomorrow I will go back home. Let me personally say Thanks to you (thank you), thank you for a few years to considerate alone to a foreign guest WIOM, you hear?

It was an old Victorian small building, in front of a tree root strain of PAM away old elm away all things hold together. In the neighborhood who physically, coming from the mimosa tree branches and leaves shiva to, phoenix tree, request of branches under the tree in, it is too naive, even dull dull. Like most of Australia's house, in the front of the garden fence. Around a bend freesia every spring, green leaves, such as silk, aroma intoxicate. Garden yellowing to ponder the roses, tulips, violets, bellflower, lavender, design and color is attractive. Every morning on a clearing garden have hordes of starling, cuckoo, and wild pigeons in the breakfast to pluck the herself. Bird man, skeletal camel back very deep, and the bird said, Lao ,, she is Mrs Houston.

The days of my study in Australia, every Saturday I come to the gardening, do some housework. Good morning, madam! I say hello to her first. Then the old man laughingly hellos to open the door for me. The building is divided into two layers. The old lady's son, Mr Houston upstairs in his holding company, real estate business. Mr More than 50, lifelong not to marry, the father's death, his mother life together WIOM.

I'm from downstairs, start living quarters. Dust, wipe the table for leaning, vacuum carpets. In order to smooth the six rooms.

I clean the study first, carefully wipe the portrait of his father, that is a commanding general, during the second world war hero. Mrs Bookcase are the photos when I was younger, beautiful blonde, a pair of good family the amusement. At this time, really let a person plaint years of relentless WIOM.

That day, I was vacuuming. The old man in the kitchen preparing lunch, tinkling cooker. Barbecue bursts of fragrance diffuses into the living room. Hall doors and Windows closed all the year round, and shutter half light, says Mr Sun can destroy valuable paintings and the colour of furniture. I like tinkering with antique shelf those elegant thing, Chinese jade carving, wood carving, west Germany, Japan, China and Thailand bronze; That set of glittering and translucent crystal wine, bright silver is polished to a shine of the French lady him. I carefully wipe, came a pungent smell of anxiety. I ran to the kitchen, where a smoke-filled already. Mrs Lit oven, forget open timer, went to study reading the newspaper. I choke in tears, my breath away, groping shut down the oven. Open the fan, pull open the oven door. Fully four kilograms of beef baked into a pile of coke, the oven can cook a dark WIOM.