Mr.Butler looked puzzled, and approaching us, said he feared Sir John was ill--had he made no provision for the distribution?
Pride kept back the tears which were rising fast, and I said my brother was indeed unwell, that it would be better for Mr.
Butler to give away the dole, and that Sir John would himself visit the recipients during the week.

Then we hurried away, not daring to watch the distribution of the dole, lest we should no longer be able to master our feelings, and should openly betray our agitation.
From one another we no longer attempted to conceal our grief.

It seemed as though we had all at once resolved to abandon the farce of pretending not to notice John's estrangement from his wife, or of explaining away his neglectful and unaccountable treatment of her.
I do not think that three poor women were ever so sad on Christmas Day before as were we on our return from church that morning.

None of us had seen my brother, but about five in the afternoon Constance went to his room, and through the locked door begged piteously to see him.

After a few minutes he complied with her request and opened the door.