The master's room, which had held for generations nothing but memories of pastoral business and sylvan pleasures, had suddenly become a place of sorrow.

The shattered pipe upon the hearthstone made Charlotte utter a low, hopeless cry of pain.
She closed the shutters, and put the burning logs upon the hearth safely together, and then locked the door.

Alas! alas! they had carried the master out, and in Charlotte's heart there was a conviction that he would never more cross its threshold.
After Harry's first feelings of anguish and horror had subsided, he was distinctly resentful.

He felt his father's suffering to be a wrong to him.

He began to reflect that the day for such intense emotions had passed away.