Marie

one or two at most in a generation; not a prolific stock, but a hardy and persistent one. No on

anite, or one knows not what, caused an ossification of the consonants, a drying up of the vowels, till these n

n to dwelling much on heaven and hell, as became his time and class. Leaving castle and lands and all earthly ties behind them, he and his wife came out of Sodom, as they expressed it, and turned not their faces, looking steadfastly forward to the wilderness where they were to worship God in His own temple, the virgin forest. It had been a terrible shock to find the Baron de St. Castin fallen away from religi

ied in his wilderness, and his wife followed him quickly, leaving a son to carry on the name. The gravestone of these first d'Arthenays was still to be seen in the old burying-ground: they had been the first

ge, Sieur d'Arthe

n esperance, 28m

as in sign of friendship or loyalty

nay, ten

the faith of his people and embracing that of Rome. He came one day to meditate beside his father's grave, hoping perhaps to draw some strength, some inspiration, from the memories of that ster

nay, ten

t there were some who liked to believe it, and who pointed out that these words were not carved deeply and regularly, like the rest of the inscription, but rough

t was a better farm, the land in better condition, the buildings and fences trimmer and better cared for, that was in the man, not in his circumstances. He was easily leader among the few men whose scattered dwellings made up the village of Sea Meadows (commonly pronounced Semedders.) His house did not lie on the little "street," as that part of the road was called where some half-dozen houses were clustered together, with their farms spreading out behind them, and the post-office for the

it seemed to him a dreadful thing that worship could not be conducted without this compromise with evil, this snare to catch the ear; and he harboured in the depth of his soul thoughts about the probable frivolity of David, which he hardly voiced even to himself. The fiddle, in particular, he held to be positively devilish, both in its origin and influence; those who played this unholy instrument were bound to no good place, and were sure to gain their port, in his opinion. Being thus minded, it was with a shock of horror that he heard the sound of a fiddle in the street

hating the feeling that constrained him, yet unable for the moment to restrain it or to turn his eyes away. She had that clear, bright whiteness of skin that is seen only in Frenchwomen, and only here and there among these; whiteness as of fire behind alabaster. Her hair was black and soft, and the lashes lay like jet on her cheek, as she stood looking down, smiling a little, feeling so happy, so pleased that she was pleasing others. And now, when she raised her eyes, they were seen to be dark and soft, too; but with what fire in their depth

self able to speak at last, he sta

ked. "How did you co

y!" she said, in her broken English, that sounded soft and strange to his ea

De Arthenay continued

ht of Le Boss. "I have nobodies'" she said. "I am with myself, sau

d to force his voice back into its usual tone, tried even to speak gently, though his heart was beating so wildly at the way she looked, at the sweet notes of her voice, like a flute in its lower notes, that he could hardly hear his own words. "No

hem, a long time, she did not know how long. And then they would take away her violin, and she would not stay, and she ran away from them, and had walked all day, and-and that was all. A little sob shook her voice at the last words; she had not realised before how utterly alone she was. The deli

hing in the world so sweet, so helpless, so forlorn? He looked around. The children were all gone; he stood alone in the street with the foreign woman, and night was falling. It was at this moment that Abby Rock, who had been watching from h

. "Come here a m

as coming to see if you wouldn't like to step into my house and rest you a spell. Why, my heart!" she cried, as Marie raised her head

h you and make her comfortable. She is a stranger, and has no friends, so she says. I-I'll see

id; whom he had never seen till this moment?-why, indeed! and she was as well able to pay for the young woman's keep as he was to say the least. All this De Arthenay saw, or fancied he saw, in Abby