Pelham and Jane came back from their trip to Jackson in a gentle mood.
Death quiets the footfall and lowers the voice instinctively; their joy
in the final preparation of the house on Haviland Avenue was
unconsciously hushed.
He had his word about the various purchases; but his haphazard taste
began to defer regularly to her sense of artistic home-making. The
little clashes that came smoothed themselves away.
While she was superintending the unpacking of a treasured dinner set,
her aunt's contribution, Pelham volunteered to hang the pictures on the
living-room and study walls. She edged out to watch him, and interrupted
at once, "Oh, never, never, Pelham! Pictures must be hung at eye-level."