But the whole of the evidence he adduced was useless. He might just as well have been embracing the cold hard angel at the baptismal font in the principal church, his own angel remained quite as cold and silent. Furboots had been the tourniquet which stopped the hemorrhage of Lenette's open, streaming artery; but his departure had taken the German tinder stopping from her eyes and now they streamed unstanched. Siebenkæs went often to the window, and up and down in the room, that she might not see that he was following her example, and that her sorrow, little reasonable as it was, infected him by sympathy. We can more easily bear, and forgive pain of our own causing than of another's. All the following day there was an unendurable silence in the house. This was the very first of the beds of the matrimonial nursery-garden in which a seed of the apple of discord had been planted, and as yet not the faintest rustle of its sap was audible. It is not in the first domestic squabble, not till the fourth, tenth, ten-thousandth, that a woman can keep perfect silence with her tongue, yet make a tremendous noise with her body, and turn every chair which she shoves about, and every reel of cotton which she lets fall, into a language-machine and fountain of speech, and play her _instrumental_ music all the louder, because her _vocal_ parts are counting their rests. LENETTE WENDELINE moved everything and said everything, as softly as if her liege lord had the gout and was lying with cramped foot pressed in agony against the trembling bottom board of his bed. When the third day of this came on, he was vexed and annoyed--and he had reason. I beg to say that, for my own part, I should be quite prepared to quarrel with my own wife, if I had one--ay, and to do it with a will--and that to some purpose, and to bandy words with her, as well as letters (though I should prefer the former). But there's one thing which would kill me outright, and that would be her keeping up a long, dreary, tearful sulking, a thing which, like the sirocco wind, ends by blowing out all a man's lights, thoughts, and joys, and at length his life itself. Just as we all of us, rather _like_ a violent thunderstorm in summer, and think it refreshing rather than otherwise in itself--and yet consider it a cursed nuisance on the whole, because it's sure to be followed by some days of dreary wet weather. Siebenkæs was all the more vexed on this occasion, because he was a man who scarcely ever was vexed. As other jurists have reckoned themselves among men exempt from torture, so Siebenkæs had long ago fortified _himself_ against grief and care, those torture racks of the soul (by the help of Epictetus), as effectually as he had the infanticide against bodily torture.