Christmas-Day was strange and sad.

Mrs.Buxton had always contrived to be in the drawing-room, ready to receive them all after dinner.

Mr.Buxton tried to do away with his thoughts of her by much talking; but every now and then he looked wistfully toward the door.

Erminia exerted herself to be as lively as she could, in order, if possible, to fill up the vacuum.
Edward, who had come over from Woodchester for a walk, had a good deal to say; and was, unconsciously, a great assistance with his never-ending flow of rather clever small-talk.

His mother felt proud of her son, and his new waistcoat, which was far more conspicuously of the latest fashion than Frank's could be said to be.