lustre. It would be
difficult to say what was most attractive in the countenance, the quick
intelligence of the eyes, or the sweet gentleness expressed in the
curves of the full lips. Even her figure has gained an added charm,
although her matronly dignity makes it more perceptible than ever that
the grand outlines of the head would have better suited a prouder
figure. But when she is seated this is not noticeable, especially when
she laughs, when the thoughtful eyes and kindly mouth harmonize so
perfectly, that no one could desire any alteration in the young wife's
appearance.

Reginchen, who sits beside her in a light flowered calico dress, with
her fair hair brushed plainly under an almost coquettish little white
cap, has also perceptibly gained in beauty and fullness of figure, nay
her form, once as slender as a swallow's seems disposed to
_embonpoint_. But the round, childish face, on the contrary, has
elongated, the rapid merry upward glance of the blue eyes is changed
for an expression of quiet cheerfulness, only sometimes darkened by a
slight cloud, when the noise made by the two little black haired boys
grows too loud, or one or both, in playing with a large brown rocking
horse, stumbles over his brother's legs. These two little fellows, now
just three years old, are the famous twins, Edwin and Balder, whom
Reginchen gave her Reinhold in the first year of their marriage. They
are, as Edwin has already told Marquard, ridiculously like their
father, grave, black eyed, white-teethed little prodigies, with voices
which really afford a most favorable augury for the future of the young
tribunes of the people, who despite their turbulent, unruly conduct,
are the kindest hearted little fellows in the world, and cling to their
mother in particular with such wild, jealous tenderness, that when both
fall upon her at once, Reginchen is in considerable danger of being
strangled and suffocated by her own children. Totally unlike these
comical miniature editions of their father, is the youngest child, a
delicate, quiet, fair-haired little girl about a year old, still a
nursling, and whose presence a blind man would scarcely notice. The
father declared her Balder's living image, and racked his brains for a
long time to try whether this child, whom he loves with special
tenderness, could not be given some name which would likewise recall
his never to be forgotten friend. But Reginchen, willingly as she
indulges her Reinhold's