George and Gertrude felt keenly the loss of their fathers.  They also become conscious of increased responsibilities, but each had courage, and good cheer was imparted if either faltered or stood beneath gray skies.  Their home life was delightful.  Each possessed the art of controlling trifles; thus troubles were minimized and joys were magnified.

Later twins, a boy and girl, entered their home, and the mother said, “If you call our son George Ingram, Jr., I shall call our daughter Gertrude Ingram, Jr.,” and so there lived under the same roof George I. and George II., Gertrude I. And Gertrude II.

Gertrude proved a model wife and mother.  The mystery of woman’s love and purity is no longer a secret when we watch the mother in touch with innocent children.  Gertrude gave home duties prominence over all others, with the blessed result that George found more attractions in his own home than in clubs or in the homes of his friends.

To do daily some little favor for his wife, as in lover days, gave him much pleasure.  Every night George came home with a new book, rare flowers, or fruit, the first of the season, or some novel plaything for his “Two G’s” as he often called the little twins.  Gertrude occasionally rebuked her husband for spending the money foolishly, as she said, but then remembrance of his family when down town gratified her.  Wives miss and long for appreciation more than for better dress or money.  If, on return to tea, the bread is good, the thoughtful husband speaks of it.  If the table-cloth is white or if the arrangement of the meal is artistic, he speaks of it.  A single word of honest approval makes the wife happy.

Sometimes Gertrude wondered why the marriage ceremony so often untied lovers’ knots, and why after marriage love and esteem did not increase.  She never forgot the advice of an old lady, too poor to make her a wedding present, who told her that if she wished to be happy in marriage she must always keep two bears in her home, bear and forbear.

George and his wife were human, and not unlike other people.  Now and then George would say to his intimate friends.  “The Ingrams like most New Englanders did not come over in the Mayflower as the passenger list was full, neither do the Ingrams belong to that very large number of families who feel the necessity of saying, ’We have never had an unkind word in our home.’  Gertrude and I both have strong wills, and we often differ in opinions, but as often we agree to disagree.  In this manner we avoid sunken rocks that might wreck our ship.”

One day, Irene, George’s youngest sister, asked Gertrude for a painting of herself and of George.  “Too expensive, Irene,” replied Gertrude, “couldn’t think of it for a moment.”

“No, Gertrude, I want only a tiny picture of your thumb and George’s.”

“What in the world do you want of our thumbs?”

“Because, Gertrude, George tells me privately that he has you completely under his thumb, and you always act as if you thought you had George under your thumb.”