The family of seven children was made up of four stalwart, cheery,
filial sons, and three hard working obedient simple daughters.

It was a family life the good Anna very much approved and also she
was much liked by them all. With a german woman's feeling for the
masterhood in men, she was docile to the surly father and rarely
rubbed him the wrong way. To the large, worn, patient, sickly mother
she was a sympathetic listener, wise in council and most efficient in
her help. The young ones too, liked her very well. The sons teased her
all the time and roared with boisterous pleasure when she gave them
back sharp hits. The girls were all so good that her scoldings here
were only in the shape of good advice, sweetened with new trimmings
for their hats, and ribbons, and sometimes on their birthdays, bits of
jewels.

It was here that Anna came for comfort after her grievous stroke at
her friend the widow, Mrs. Lehntman. Not that Anna would tell Mrs.
Drehten of this trouble. She could never lay bare the wound that came
to her through this idealised affection. Her affair with Mrs. Lehntman
was too sacred and too grievous ever to be told. But here in this
large household, in busy movement and variety in strife, she could
silence the uneasiness and pain of her own wound.

The Drehtens lived out in the country in one of the wooden, ugly
houses that lie in groups outside of our large cities.

The father and the sons all had their work here making beer, and the
mother and her girls scoured and sewed and cooked.

On Sundays they were all washed very clean, and smelling of kitchen