Harry and Mary did indeed lock their hands together tightly, and the shoulders of the former shook as he stood, bowing down his head, but the others were still and quiet, in part from awe and bewilderment, but partly, too, from a sense that it was against her whole nature that there should be clamorous mourning for her.

The calm still day seemed to tell them the same, the sun beaming softly on the gray arches and fresh grass, the sky clear and blue, and the trees that showed over the walls bright with autumn colouring, all suitable to the serenity of a life unclouded to its last moment.

Some of them felt as if it were better to be there than in their saddened desolate home.
But home they must go, and, before going upstairs, as Flora and Etheldred stood a moment or two with Norman, Ethel said in a tone of resolution, and of some cheerfulness, "Well, we have to begin afresh." "Yes," said Flora, "it is a great responsibility.

I do trust we may be enabled to do as we ought." "And now Margaret is getting better, she will be our stay," said Ethel.
"I must go to her," and Flora went upstairs.
"I wish I could be as useful as Flora," said Ethel; but I mean to try, and if I can but keep out of mischief, it will be something.
"There is an object for all one does, in trying to be a comfort to papa." "That's no use," said Norman, listlessly.

"We never can." "Oh, but, Norman, he won't be always as he is now--I am sure he cares for us enough to be pleased, if we do right and get on." "We used to be so happy!" said Norman.
Ethel hesitated a little, and presently answered, "I don't think it can be right to lament for our own sakes so much, is it ?" "I don't want to do so," said Norman, in the same dejected way.
"I suppose we ought not to feel it either." Norman only shook his head.
"We ought to think of her gain.