What in this event would the Others matter to him, since they only mattered to the living?
Even as one of the Dead what would his altar matter to him, since his particular dream of keeping it up had melted away?
What had harmony to do with the case if his lights were all to be quenched?
What he had hoped for was an instituted thing.

He might perpetuate it on some other pretext, but his special meaning would have dropped.

This meaning was to have lasted with the life of the one other person who understood it.
In March he had an illness during which he spent a fortnight in bed, and when he revived a little he was told of two things that had happened.
One was that a lady whose name was not known to the servants (she left none) had been three times to ask about him; the other was that in his sleep and on an occasion when his mind evidently wandered he was heard to murmur again and again: "Just one more--just one." As soon as he found himself able to go out, and before the doctor in attendance had pronounced him so, he drove to see the lady who had come to ask about him.

She was not at home; but this gave him the opportunity, before his strength should fall again, to take his way to the church.

He entered it alone; he had declined, in a happy manner he possessed of being able to decline effectively, the company of his servant or of a nurse.