As to Bertie, one would have imagined from the sound of his voice and the gleam of his eye that he had not a sorrow nor a care in the world.

Nor had he.

He was incapable of anticipating to-morrow's griefs.

The prospect of future want no more disturbed his appetite than does that of the butcher's knife disturb the appetite of the sheep.
Such was the usual tenor of their way; but there were rare exceptions.
Occasionally the father would allow an angry glance to fall from his eye, and the lion would send forth a low dangerous roar as though he meditated some deed of blood.

Occasionally also Madame Neroni would become bitter against mankind, more than usually antagonistic to the world's decencies, and would seem as though she was about to break from her moorings and allow herself to be carried forth by the tide of her feelings to utter ruin and shipwreck.