She was cheerful and friendly, but was, nevertheless, a sad woman; her eyes were dark and her voice was a little forced as though she had accustomed herself to be in good spirits.

The love between herself and her husband was very pleasant to see.
Like all simple people, they immediately trusted Seymour with their confidence.

During luncheon they told him many things, of Rasselas, where Mr.Trenchard had been a curate, at their joy at getting the Clinton living, and of their happiness at being there, of the kindness of the people, of the beauty of the country, of their neighbours, of their relations, the George Trenchards, at Garth of Glebeshire generally, and what it meant to be a Trenchard.
"There've been Trenchards in Glebeshire," said the Vicar, greatly excited, "since the beginning of time.

If Adam and Eve were here, and Glebeshire was the Garden of Eden, as I daresay it was, why, then Adam was a Trenchard." Afterwards when they were smoking in the confused study, Seymour learnt why Mrs.Trenchard was a sad woman.
"We've had one trial, under God's grace," said Mr.Trenchard.

"There was a boy and a girl--Francis and Jessamy.