They grew cross.

Norman was roused to reprove sharply, and Blanche was beginning to cry.

But Richard's entrance set all at peace--he sat down among them, and, with soft voice and arm round Blanche, as she leaned against him, made her good in a moment; and she listened while he talked over with Norman and Ethel all they could bear to speak of.
Late in the day Flora came into her father's room, and stood gazing at him, as he lay with eyes closed, breathing heavily, and his brows contracted by pain.

She watched him with piteous looks, as if imploring him to return to his children.

Poor girl, to-day's quiet, after the last evening's bustle, was hard to bear.