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“
What
shall
we
sing
?
”
“
Anything
you
know
;
I
don
’
t
mind
.
”
There
was
a
momentary
pause
;
it
was
broken
,
first
,
in
one
little
tentative
note
;
then
a
second
voice
strengthened
it
,
and
a
third
and
a
fourth
chimed
in
unison
,
with
words
they
had
learnt
at
the
Sunday
-
school
—
Here
we
suffer
grief
and
pain
,
Here
we
meet
to
part
again
;
In
Heaven
we
part
no
more
.
The
four
sang
on
with
the
phlegmatic
passivity
of
persons
who
had
long
ago
settled
the
question
,
and
there
being
no
mistake
about
it
,
felt
that
further
thought
was
not
required
.
With
features
strained
hard
to
enunciate
the
syllables
they
continued
to
regard
the
centre
of
the
flickering
fire
,
the
notes
of
the
youngest
straying
over
into
the
pauses
of
the
rest
.
Tess
turned
from
them
,
and
went
to
the
window
again
.
Darkness
had
now
fallen
without
,
but
she
put
her
face
to
the
pane
as
though
to
peer
into
the
gloom
.
It
was
really
to
hide
her
tears
.
If
she
could
only
believe
what
the
children
were
singing
;
if
she
were
only
sure
,
how
different
all
would
now
be
;
how
confidently
she
would
leave
them
to
Providence
and
their
future
kingdom
!
But
,
in
default
of
that
,
it
behoved
her
to
do
something
;
to
be
their
Providence
;
for
to
Tess
,
as
to
not
a
few
millions
of
others
,
there
was
ghastly
satire
in
the
poet
’
s
lines
—
Not
in
utter
nakedness
