The brother and sister had taken it all very quietly.
Nobody had ever taken anything in any other way in the presence of Mrs.
Weatheral, and that she was there still for them, that she would always be present in their lives, a warm determining influence, was witnessed by that absence of violence which empties too soon the cup of grief.

The loss of their mother had at least brought them no sense of leaving her behind.

They were going on with their life so soon because she was going with them.
"That was why I wanted them all to go away," Ellen took up the thought again.

"I've been thinking all day about mother being with father and how glad he'll be to see her, and yet it seems as if I can feel her here.

I thought if we kept still a while she'd make us understand what she wanted us to do." "About what, Ellen ?" "About my going up to the city with you to board--it seems such a wasteful way to live somehow, just sitting around!" "It isn't as expensive as keeping house," Peter told her, "and I want you to sit around, Ellen; women in Bloombury don't get enough of that I'm afraid." "They don't.