Diana of the Crossways. Volume 3. George Meredith

      'I have raised the lamp on him, and wondered each time. So changeless he lies. But so like a sleep that will wake. We never see peace but in the features of the dead. Will you look? They are beautiful. They have a heavenly sweetness.'

      The desire to look was evidently recurrent with her. Dacier rose.

      Their eyes fell together on the dead man, as thoughtfully as Death allows to the creatures of sensation.

      'And after?' he said in low tones.

      'I trust to my Maker,' she replied. 'Do you see a change since he breathed his last?'

      'Not any.'

      'You were with him?'

      'Not in the room. Two minutes later.'

      'Who . . .?'

      'My father. His niece, Lady Cathairn.'

      'If our lives are lengthened we outlive most of those we would have to close our eyes. He had a dear sister.'