gift from her father-in-law, together with the letter of thanks.

In the meantime her husband grew. He became first manly, more manly than
the average man, as is often the case with those who have an unusually
long boyhood. Then by culture and travel he developed the resources of a
keenly observant and very thoughtful mind. Then his love for his
children made a naturally sweet temper sweeter still, and in the course
of a very few years he had so completely left his wife behind, that it
never occurred to him to think of her as a companion for his inner life.
He liked her; she never nagged; he considered her an excellent
housekeeper; in fact, they were mutually pleased with one another; their
cases were equal; both often thought they might have been worse off, and
neither regretted with any keenness what they had never known.

Sometimes, having much sweetness of nature, it would chance that John
Mortimer's love for his children would overflow in his wife's direction,
on which, as if to recall him to himself, she would say, not coldly, but
sensibly, "Don't be silly, John dear." But if he expressed gratitude on
her account, as he sometimes did when she had an infant of a few days
old in her arms, if his soul appeared to draw nearer to her then, and
he inclined to talk of deeper and wider things than they commonly spoke
of, she was always distinctly aggrieved. A tear perhaps would twinkle in
her eye. She was affected by his relief after anxiety, and his gratitude
for her safety; but she did not like to feel affected, and brought him
back to the common level of their lives as soon as possible.

So they lived together in peace and prosperity till they had seven
children, and then, one fine autumn, Mrs. John Mortimer persuaded her
father-in-law to do up the house, so far as papering and painting were
concerned. She then persuaded John to take a tour, and went herself to