(Poor Saint Lucia! this is a new rendering of thy martyrdom!) Yes, indeed! Marie was no Catholic, but she had seen the picture, and knew that it was so.

And oh, he did mean to be kind, her husband! that saw itself more and more plainly every day.
Then, there was great pleasure in the housekeeping.

Marie was a born housewife, with delicate French hands, and an inborn skill in cookery, the discovery of which gave her great delight.

Everything in the kitchen was fresh and clean and sweet, and in the garden were fruits, currants and blackberries and raspberries, and every kind of vegetable that grew in the village at home, with many more that were strange to her.

She found never-ending pleasure in concocting new dishes, little triumphs of taste and daintiness, and trying them on her silent husband.