It was a strange tie, perhaps finding its origin in something deeper than itself--in that dead captain, whose old- fashioned miniature still lay in poor Maria's drawer--the fierce, handsome face, proving that, had he lived, he might have been as great a tyrant over her as his sister Henrietta.

Still, however it arose, the bond was there, and nothing but death could ever break it between these two lonely women.
"Come, then, Maria, we shall share our last crust together.

You, at least, have never wronged me.

Come away." Gathering her dress about her with a tragical air, and plucking it, as she passed Mrs.Grey, as though the possible touch were pollution, Aunt Henrietta swept from the room; Aunt Maria, after one deprecatory look behind, as if to say, "You see I can't do otherwise," slowly following.
And so it was all over--safely over--this great change, which, however longed for, had not been contemplated as a possibility one hour before.
It had arranged itself out of the most trivial elements, as great events often do.

There could be no question that every body felt it to be the best thing, and every body was thankful; and yet Christian watched her husband with a little uncertainty until she heard him heave a sigh of relief.
"Yes, I am sure it was right to be done, and I am glad it is done.