She could not understand it, but her husband's indifference to religion had taught her to endure, and, in truth, her own zeal, as I have said, was not of active colour.

Discussion on such subjects there had never been.

Her daughter, she had learnt to concede, was strangely other than herself; Emily was old enough to have regard for her own hereafter.
Breakfast on Sunday was an hour later than on other days, and was always a very silent meal.

On the day which we have now reached it was perhaps more silent than usual.

Hood had a newspaper before him on the table; his wife wore the wonted Sabbath absentness, suggestive of a fear lest she should be late for church; Emily made a show of eating, but the same diminutive slice of bread-and-butter lasted her to the end of the meal.
She was suffering from a slight feverishness, and her eyes, unclosed throughout the night, were heavy with a pressure which was not of conscious fatigue.