1 There was a queer smile about Mr. Brooke's mouth as he opened at poor Mary's lament.
2 And Mr. Brooke looked so contented and cheerful that Meg was ashamed to lament her hard lot.
3 Laurie smiled, but he liked the spirit with which she took up a new purpose when a long-cherished one died, and spent no time lamenting.
4 You are a mere infant, but you'll go next, Jo, and we'll be left lamenting, said Laurie, shaking his head over the degeneracy of the times.
5 The fever flush and the look of pain were gone, and the beloved little face looked so pale and peaceful in its utter repose that Jo felt no desire to weep or to lament.
6 To which pathetic appeal Daisy would answer with a coo, or Demi with a crow, and Meg would put by her lamentations for a maternal revel, which soothed her solitude for the time being.
7 No one cried, no one ran away or uttered a lamentation, though their hearts were very heavy as they sent loving messages to Father, remembering, as they spoke that it might be too late to deliver them.
8 Pere la Chaise is very curious, for many of the tombs are like small rooms, and looking in, one sees a table, with images or pictures of the dead, and chairs for the mourners to sit in when they come to lament.