The frosts of nearly forty winters had whitened over her brows, yet she had the manner and elasticity of a girl of eighteen, and a face so full of sweetness and gentleness that it seemed as if God had ordained it for man's love.

Angeline's dress was usually of plain blue homespun, woven by her own hands, and with her cap and apron of snowy whiteness she presented a picture of neatness and comeliness not seen in every house.
There was a big, square room on the first floor, with a little bed room adjoining, and an old-fashioned bed with white dimity curtains, fringe, and tassels made by Angeline's own hand.

Snow white curtains also draped the windows; and there was a tidy and cosy air about the little bed room that told you how good a housewife Angeline was.

An old-fashioned hand-loom stood in one corner of the big, square room; and a flax and a spinning-wheel had their places in another.

A farm-house was not considered well furnished in those days without these useful implements, nor was a housewife considered accomplished who could not card, spin, and weave.