There they remained for a long time, both unwilling to speak or stir, or even to observe to each other on the noises that came in to them, as their door was left ajar, though in those sounds they were so absorbed, that they did not notice the cold of a frosty October evening, or the darkness that closed in on them.
They heard the poor babe crying, one of the children going down to call nurse, and nurse coming up; then Harry, at the door of the room where the boys slept, calling Norman in a low voice.

Norman, now nearly recovered, went and brought him into his sister's room, and his tidings were, that their father's arm had been broken in two places, and the elbow frightfully injured, having been crushed and twisted by the wheel.
He was also a good deal bruised, and though Mr.Ward trusted there was no positive harm to the head, he was in an unconscious state, from which the severe pain of the operation had only roused him, so far as to evince a few signs of suffering.

Margaret was still insensible.
The piteous sound of the baby's wailing almost broke their hearts.
Norman walked about the room in the dark, and said he should go down, he could not bear it; but he could not make up his mind to go, and after about a quarter of an hour, to their great relief, it ceased.
Next Mary opened the door, saying, "Norman, here's Mr.Wilmot come to ask if he can do anything--Miss Winter sent word that you had better go to him." "How is baby ?" asked Harry.
"Nurse has fed her, and is putting her to bed; she is quiet now," said Mary; "will you go down, Norman ?" "Where is he ?" "In the drawing-room." Norman paused to ask what he was to say.
"Nothing," said Mary, "nobody can do anything.

Make haste.

Don't you want a candle ?" "No, thank you, I had rather be in the dark.