No wonder she became frightened when it grew dark." "It was--very distressing," nodded his father.
They remained silent again until Mr.Neville rose, took off his spectacles, laid aside _The Evening Post_, and held out his hand.
"Good-night, my son." "Good-night, father." "Yes--yes--good-night--good-night--to many, many things, my son; old-fashioned things of no value any more--of no use to me, or you, or anybody any more." He retained his son's hand in his, peering at him, dim-eyed, without his spectacles: "The old order passes--the old ideas, the old beliefs--and the old people who cherished them--who know no others, needed no others....
Good-night, my son." But he made no movement to leave, and still held to his son's hand: "I've tried to live as blamelessly as my father lived, Louis--and as God has given me to see my way through life....

But--the times change so--change so.

The times are perplexing; life grows noisier, and stranger and more complex and more violent every day around us--and the old require repose, Louis.

Try to understand that." "Yes, father." The other looked at him, wearily: "Your mother seems to think that your happiness in life depends on--what we say to you--this evening.

Stephanie seems to believe it, too....