Judge Bloommaert was well aware of this fact, and yet there were times when the old dislike would assert itself; and, strange as it may seem, this feeling was usually caused by Leonard’s overflowing vitality, his almost boisterous good humour, and his confident conversation. “The fellow never knows when he has ceased to be interesting,” he said one night fretfully, “and you and Sappha hang upon his words as if they were very wisdom. I am astonished at you, Carlita.” “And I at you, Gerardus. Why cannot you two talk an hour together without getting on each others’ prejudices?” “Leonard is always so cock-sure he is right.” “Convince him he is wrong.” “You cannot handle his arguments any more than you can handle soap bubbles; both are so empty.” “I think he is very interesting. He knows all that is going on, and he tells us all he knows.” “To be sure! He is a walking newspaper, and the leading article is always Leonard Murray. Whatever does Sapphira Bloommaert see in him? I am sure, also, that he keeps up his acquaintance with Mr. Burr. Yet he knows my opinion about that man.” “Well, you see, Gerardus, though you may interfere somewhat in Leonard Murray’s love affairs, you cannot dictate to him concerning his friends. Suppose he should tell you that he did not approve of your friendship with Mr. Morris?” “The impertinence is not supposable, Carlita. What are you thinking of? Such remarks are enough to make any man lose his temper.” “Very likely, but if you lose your present temper, Gerardus, do not look for it; it is not worth finding. Do you really wish to separate Sappha and Leonard, after all that has been said and granted?” “I do not say that. Cannot a man grumble a little to his wife? And must she take every fretful word at its full value? People complain of bonds they would never break. As the Dutch proverb has it, ‘The tooth often bites the tongue, but yet they keep together.’” “Dear husband, all will come right in the long run. Leonard is in a very hard position. He desires to please so much that he exceeds, and so offends. He loves Sappha with all his heart; that should excuse many faults.” “I do not see it in that way. It is not a favour to love Sapphira, nor yet a hard thing to do. What are you talking about?” “I am saying that we both need sleep. We are tired out now. In the morning things will look so different.” Such little frets, however, hardly ruffled the full stream of the life of that day. There were plenty of real worries for those who wished to complain; and for those inclined to take the fervour and faith, the courage and self-denial of the time, there were plenty of occasions for happiness and hope. And so the winter grew to spring, and the spring waxed to summer, and June brought roses and the most astonishing news.