made its appearance, a fact which astonished no one so much as it did Lady Anne herself, for, as she admitted with equal surprise and candour, "it was so like common people to have a large family." Moreover, it was a son they wanted, as a male heir was necessary before any settlement could be made of the property.
Mr. Granard (it is amazing how unreasonable husbands are!) began to hint that they were living beyond their income. Two of the children died, an affliction under which Lady Anne was wonderfully supported, particularly as her spirits under such circumstances required a little change, and they accordingly passed a few months at Paris.
Twelve years glided by, only disturbed by remonstrances from Mr. Granard, remonstrances which, as her ladyship observed, always came after he had been seeing his steward or his lawyer—for her part, she hated those sort of people. Two more daughters were also added to their stock of domestic felicity, and the eldest, a pretty, fair, timid girl, had become the constant companion of her father's solitary walks, who took little part in the gaieties which filled his house.
Mr. Granard's is a common history. He was a broken-spirited man, ruined by extravagance he had not resolution to check, and harassed by embarrassments he had not courage to face. He was a kind-hearted, well-meaning man, and with a different wife would have been a different person. He had married
