Often when he was a scholar of the University of Oxford, or master of an academy at Edial, or a writer for the London booksellers,--in all his poverty and toil and in all his success,--while he was walking the streets without a shilling to buy food, or when the greatest men of England were proud to feast him at their table,--still that heavy and remorseful thought came back to him, "I was cruel to my poor father in his illness!" Many and many a time, awake or in his dreams, he seemed to see old Michael Johnson standing in the dust and confusion of the market-place and pressing his withered hand to his forehead as if it ached.
Alas! my dear children, it is a sad thing to have such a thought as this to bear us company through life.
Though the story was but half finished, yet, as it was longer than usual, Mr.Temple here made a short pause.

He perceived that Emily was in tears, and Edward turned his half-veiled face towards the speaker with an air of great earnestness and interest.

As for George, he had withdrawn into the dusky shadow behind his father's chair..