Sure, there's a sad change come over the house, anyway." The General gave orders that Miss Nelly was not to be disturbed again that night.

After dinner he retired to his den and made a pretence of reading the papers, but his heart wasn't in it.

He missed even a speech of Robin's which would have enraged him in happier times.

He sat turning over the sheets and sighing to himself now and again; only when Pat came in with a pretence of replenishing the fire--it was Pat's way of showing his silent sympathy--was the General absorbed in his newspaper.

Not that it imposed on Pat, who mentioned afterwards to Bridget that he didn't believe the master knew a word of what he was looking at.
About half-past nine the General relinquished that pretence of reading.
He felt the house to be nearly as sad as though someone were lying dead in it, and he could support it no longer.