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Trollope, Anthony, 1815-1882

"ée"

It was the only reproach he uttered,
though the words of his son, intended as they were to excite hope, and
to give comfort, had been to him most distasteful.
Henri was in a moment at his father's feet. "Pardon me, father!" said
he; "you know that I did not mean to give you pain. We all love the old
house--none of us so well as you perhaps; but we all love it; yet what
can we do? Were we to remain here, we should only be smothered beneath
its ashes."
"God's will be done, my son. He knows that I do not begrudge my house
in his service, and in that of my royal master. It is not likely that
I should do so, when I have not begrudged the blood of my children."
They were all to start on the following morning by break of day, and,
therefore, the necessity of early rising gave them an excuse desired by
all, for retiring early for the night. They could not talk together, for
every word that was spoken begot fresh sources of sorrow; they could not
employ themselves, for their minds were unhinged and unfitted for
employment; so they agreed that they would go to bed, and before nine
o'clock, the family separated for the night.


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