A fine girl and boy were born to them; and need I say how their hearts expanded and exulted; and seemed to grow twice as large. The little boy was taken from them at three years old: and how can I convey to any but a parent the anguish of that first bereavement? Well they suffered it together, and that poignant grief was one tie more between them. For many years they did not furnish any exciting or even interesting matter to this narrator. And all the better for them: without these happy periods of dulness our lives would be hell, and our hearts eternally bubbling and boiling in a huge pot made hot with thorns. In the absence of striking incidents, it may be well to notice the progress of character, and note the tiny seeds of events to come. Neither the intellectual nor the moral character of any person stands stock-still: a man improves, or he declines. Mrs. Gaunt had a great taste for reading; Mr. Gaunt had not: what was the consequence? at the end of seven years the lady's understanding had made great strides; the gentleman's had, apparently, retrograded. Now we all need a little excitement, and we all seek it, and get it by hook or by crook. The girl, who satisfies that natural craving with what the canting dunces of the day call a "sensational" novel, and the girl, who does it by waltzing till daybreak, are sisters; only one obtains the result intellectually, and the other obtains it like a young animal, and a pain in her empty head next day. Mrs. Gaunt could enjoy company, but was never dull with a good book. Mr. Gaunt was a pleasant companion, but dull out of company. So, rather than not have it, he would go to the parlor of the "Red Lion," and chat and sing with the yeomen and rollicking young squires that resorted thither: and this was matter of grief and astonishment to Mrs. Gaunt. It was balanced by good qualities she knew how to appreciate. Morals were much looser then than now; and more than one wife of her acquaintance had a rival in the village, or even among her own domestics; but Griffith had no loose inclinations of that kind, and never gave her a moment's uneasiness. He was constancy and fidelity in person. Sobriety had not yet been invented. But Griffith was not so intemperate as most squires; he could always mount the stairs to tea, and generally without staggering. He was uxorious, and it used to come out after his wine. This Mrs. Gaunt permitted at first, but by-and-by says she, expanding her delicate nostrils, "You may be as affectionate as you please dear, and you may smell of wine, if you will; but please not to smell of wine and be affectionate at the same moment. I value your affection too highly to let you disgust me with it." And the model husband yielded to this severe restriction, and, as it never occurred to him to give up his wine, he forebode to be affectionate in his cups.