They turned from the porch, and walked hand in hand to find a resting-place in the churchyard.

Stephen chose a flat tomb, showing itself to be newer and whiter than those around it, and sitting down himself, gently drew her hand towards him.
'No, not there,' she said.
'Why not here ?' 'A mere fancy; but never mind.' And she sat down.
'Elfie, will you love me, in spite of everything that may be said against me ?' 'O Stephen, what makes you repeat that so continually and so sadly?
You know I will.

Yes, indeed,' she said, drawing closer, 'whatever may be said of you--and nothing bad can be--I will cling to you just the same.
Your ways shall be my ways until I die.' 'Did you ever think what my parents might be, or what society I originally moved in ?' 'No, not particularly.

I have observed one or two little points in your manners which are rather quaint--no more.

I suppose you have moved in the ordinary society of professional people.' 'Supposing I have not--that none of my family have a profession except me ?' 'I don't mind.