under such circumstances, would be his own wish?

Clara Amedroz at this time was not a very young lady. She had already
passed her twenty-fifth birthday, and in manners, appearance, and
habits was, at any rate, as old as her age. She made no pretence to
youth, speaking of herself always as one whom circumstances required to
take upon herself age in advance of her years. She did not dress young,
or live much with young people, or correspond with other girls by means
of crossed letters; nor expect that, for her, young pleasures should be
provided. Life had always been serious with her; but now, we may say,
since the terrible tragedy lit the family, it must be solemn as well as
serious. The memory of her brother must always be upon her; and the
memory also of the fact that her father was now an impoverished man, on
whose behalf it was her duty to care that every shilling spent in the
house did its full twelve pennies' worth of work. There was a mixture
in this of deep tragedy and of little cares, which seemed to destroy
for her the poetry as well as the pleasure of life. The poetry and
tragedy might have gone hand in hand together; and so might the cares
and pleasures of life have done, had there been no black sorrow of
which she must be ever mindful. But it was her lot to have to
scrutinize the butcher's bill as she was thinking of her brother's
fate; and to work daily among small household things while the spectre
of her brother's corpse was ever before her eyes.

A word must be said to explain how it had come to pass that the life
led by Miss Amedroz had been more than commonly serious before that
tragedy had befallen the family. The name of the lady who stood to
Clara in the place of an aunt has been already mentioned. When a girl
has a mother, her aunt may be little or nothing to her. But when the
mother is gone, if there be an aunt unimpeded with other family duties,