I do not know what more to say." "There is nothing to be said," answered Morris; "my poor uncle had lived out his life--he was sixty-eight, you know, and there is an end." "Were you fond of him?
Forgive me for asking, but people are not always fond--really fond--of those who happen to be their relations." "Yes, I was very fond of him.

He was a good man, though simple and self-made; very kind to everybody; especially to myself." "Then do not grieve for him, his pains are over, and some day you will meet him again, will you not ?" "I suppose so; but in the presence of death faith falters." "I know; but I think that is when it should be strongest and clearest, that is when we should feel that whatever else is unreal and false, this is certain and true." Morris bowed his head in assent, and there was silence for a while.
"I am afraid that Miss Porson must feel this very much," Stella said presently.
"Yes, she seems quite crushed.

She was his only living child, you know." "Are you not going to join her ?" "No, I cannot; she has gone into a convent for a month, near Beaulieu, and I am afraid the Sisters would not let me through their gates." "Is she a Catholic ?" "Not at all, but an old friend of hers holds some high position in the place, and she has taken a fancy to be quiet there for a while." "It is very natural," answered Stella, and nothing more was said upon the subject.
Stella neither played the violin nor sang that night, nor, indeed, again while she remained alone with Morris at the Abbey.

Both of them felt that under the circumstances this form of pleasure would be out of place, if not unfeeling, and it was never suggested.

For the rest, however, their life went on as usual.