The Lindsays, Volume II by John K. Leys

On a gloomy winter morning the invisible hand was stretched forth, and James Lindsay was taken behind the veil. Then hired people came and went silently. The blinds were drawn, and the house was almost in darkness. The servants, knowing that little would be expected of them, gathered round their fire and told each other what steps they would take to gain new places. Miss Lindsay informed Mr. Hatchett of what had happened, that he might seal up the dead man's desk and the drawers of his writing-table; and Mr. Hatchett sent a trusty old clerk named Drake, who had performed that service for scores of deceased clients, to do what was necessary. After Mr. Drake's departure Miss Lindsay locked the doors of the library, and of the room where the dead man was lying, and betook herself to her own room on the third floor. Laura followed her example.

Early in the afternoon Semple, finding that existence at No. 21, Claremont Gardens was, under the circumstances, an insupportable burden, wandered off towards the City, leaving word that he would not be back to dinner.