He paces back and forth in the pen restlessly, anything but content with the domestic fireside.

One can see plainly that he is devoted to the Boulevards, and that if left to his own inclinations he would never have chosen any spouse but a thorough Parisienne.
The Hungarian lady is blind of one eye, from some stray shot, I suppose.
She is melancholy at all times, and occasionally goes so far as to beat her head against the wire netting.

If liberated, Mr.Heaven says that her blindness would only expose her to death at the hands of the first sportsman, and it always seems to me as if she knows this, and is ever trying to decide whether a loveless marriage is any better than the tomb.
Then, again, the great, grey gander is, for some mysterious reason, out of favour with the entire family.

He is a noble and amiable bird, by far the best all-round character in the flock, for dignity of mien and large- minded common-sense.

What is the treatment vouchsafed to this blameless husband and father?
One that puts anybody out of sorts with virtue and its scant rewards.