half past ten
There , in that house , his two children were born : there , within those inartistic walls , Eliza Preston lived a life that will remain a closed book forever . What she thought , what she dreamed , if anything , will never be revealed . She did not , at least , have neurasthenia , and for all the world knew , she may have loved her exemplary and successful husband , with whom her life was as regular as the Strasburg clock . She breakfasted at eight and dined at seven ; she heard her children 's lessons and read them Bible stories ; and at half past ten every Sunday morning , rain or shine , walked with them and her husband to the cars on Tower Street to attend service at St. John 's , for Mr. Parr had scruples in those days about using the carriage on the Sabbath . She did not live , alas , to enjoy for long the Medicean magnificence of the mansion facing the Park , to be a companion moon in the greater orbit . Eldon Part 's grief was real , and the beautiful English window in the south transept of the church bears witness to it . And yet it can not be said that he sought solace in religion , so apparently steeped in it had he always been .