And now she sat in the sunshine, knitting and waiting, scarcely ever looking up.

That was her life.
"Catharina," he said, as he gave her back her knitting, "do you remember how you used to cook me the trout ?" Another smile passed over her face.

Yes, she remembered.
"Will you cook me some to-day ?" She shook her head, and returned to her knitting.
Bernardine watched the Disagreeable Man with amazement.

She could not have believed that his manner could be so tender and kindly.

The old mother standing near her whispered: "He was always so good to us all; we love him, every one of us.