One night, when the nurse was absent, the door of my chamber opened, and a tall woman in blackest mourning slipped into the room.

The house in question was hard to miss; instead of being decked in green garlands, it was swathed, windows and doors, and the gate in front, in sad swags of black mourning.

The purple depression had us contemplating black mourning for dying business, departed bank accounts and profits.

His mother's chamber was swathed in black mourning, for only the previous week his father, Prince William II, had died of smallpox.

The young man swung about to face a dark-haired girl whose black mourning attire gave her a singular beauty.

The smoke of burning buildings hung like black mourning over thousands of cities.

On the black mourning garments of the nobles are projected the gold-embroidered vestments, thus creating an intense ceremonial character.

She was dressed simply in the black mourning for her father, with a priceless mantilla crowned high and falling in cascades of lacy folds.

The prospect of soon having her and her mourning black far away from me inspired friendly words.

It was a big event then. . . . The front curtains of the house were closed and we were dressed in black mourning.