He was tired, and so was Lassie, and so, too, was Kester, who, lifting his heavy legs one after the other, and smoothing down his hair, followed his master into the house-place, and seating himself on a bench at the farther end of the dresser, patiently awaited the supper of porridge and milk which he shared with his master.

Sylvia, meanwhile, coaxed Lassie--poor footsore dog--to her side, and gave her some food, which the creature was almost too tired to eat.

Philip made as though he would be going, but Daniel motioned to him to be quiet.
'Sit thee down, lad.

As soon as I've had my victual, I want t' hear a bit o' news.' Sylvia took her sewing and sat at the little round table by her mother, sharing the light of the scanty dip-candle.

No one spoke.
Every one was absorbed in what they were doing.