It was an old-fashioned house, and more than one generation had grown up in it.

Uncle Max was fond of telling me about his predecessors' histories.

Two little children had died in the big nursery overlooking the garden.

There was a little brown room where a _ci-devant_ vicar had written his sermons, with a big cupboard in the wall where he hung his cassock.

He had a grown-up family, but his wife was dead.