I'll try to be a daughter to you.

You need somebody to think of you, for you never think of yourself.
Let's go in his room," she said, and taking the mother by the hand they crossed to the empty room.

There was his writing-table, there his forsaken books, his papers, some of his clothes hanging in his closet.
Mrs.Pitkin, opening a drawer, took out a locket hung upon a bit of blue ribbon, where there were two locks of hair, one of which Diana recognized as her own, and one of James's.

She hastily hung it about her neck and concealed it in her bosom, laying her hand hard upon it, as if she would still the beatings of her heart.
"It seems like a death," she said.

"Don't you think the ocean is like death--wide, dark, stormy, unknown?
We cannot speak to or hear from them that are on it." "But people can and do come back from the sea," said the mother, soothingly.