We were silent, awed, by this sudden and awful happening.

I thought of poor comfortable Mrs.Dawson, and felt that, tyrant as he had been to her, she would grieve for him as though he had been a pattern of all the virtues.

Yet she had her son.

A thought came to me that Garret Dawson had not had time to disinherit his son after all.
"Poor Master Richard!" Neil went on, averting his eyes on me.

"'Tis all over the country that last night Tom Jordan of Clonmany escaped from his bed in the small-pox hospital.