Like many a man, Breakspeare would have been quite satisfied with his wife, if, at the same time, he could have had another.

He heartily approved the domestic virtues; it would have exasperated him had the mother of his children neglected home duties for any intellectual pursuit; yet, as often as he thought of Miss Bride, contemptuous impatience disturbed his tranquillity.

He desired to unite irreconcilable things.

His practical safeguard was the humour which, after all, never allowed him to take life too seriously.
A boy of sixteen, the eldest of seven children, sat down to table with them.

Breakspeare made a slight apology for his presence, adding genially: "_Meminisse juvabit_." The meal was more than tolerable; the guest thoroughly enjoyed himself, talking with as little affectation as his nature permitted, and, with a sense of his own graciousness, often addressing to Mrs.Breakspeare a remark on the level of her intelligence.
"When you come down to Hollingford," said the journalist, "I suppose you will generally stay at Lady Ogram's ?" "Possibly," was the reply.