"Come, let's get on; you'll want your dinner, and it's getting dark." So they cantered on, and got off their horses at the gate, without another word.

And not another word was spoken on the subject that night.

Harry was very silent, walking up and down the veranda with his pipe in his mouth--not lying on the ground in idle enjoyment--and there was no reading.

The two sisters looked at him from time to time with wistful, anxious-eyes, half afraid to disturb him by speech.
As for him, he felt that the weight was all on his own shoulders.

He had worked hard, and was on the way to be rich.