There were four boys and no daughters; for, alas! I forgot to inform the reader that his fallen daughter was his only one; a fact which, notwithstanding his guilt, must surely stir up the elements of our humanity in mitigation of his madness.
This house of mourning was, indeed, a strange, a solemn, and a peculiar one.

The women sat near the bed upon stools, and such other seats as they had prepared.

The wife and his two sisters were rocking themselves to and fro, as is the custom when manifesting profound sorrow in Irish wake-houses; the other women talked to each other in a low tone, amounting almost to a whisper.

Their conduct was marked, in fact, by a grave and mysterious monotony; but after a little reflection, it soon became painfully intelligible.

Here was shame, as well as guilt and sorrow--here was shame endeavoring to restrain sorrow; and hence the silence, and the struggle between them which it occasioned.