The Sin of Jasper Standish by Eliza Margaret Jane Humphreys

There was a false air of festivity about that Christmas night. Sir Anthony was grave and absent-minded. To the old, Christmas is always a time of memories. Nora was pale and weary-looking. Lyle in her new radiance of happiness felt almost ashamed of a joy that was apart from them, and tried to subdue her sweet content and hopefulness in sympathy with regrets of the one, the sorrow of the other.

After dinner they sat round the wood fire in the hall, and talked. At least Sir Anthony talked and the girls listened. But it was a relief to all when ten o'clock sounded, and they were free to part for the night.