groom.

"Jacques," she pleaded, "don't do it! don't do such a thing on your
wedding-day, if you have a heart in you. Don't you see how she feels
it? Put the fiddle away, if you don't want it round; put it up garret,
and let it lay there, till she's wonted a little to doing without it.
Take it now out of her sight and your own, Jacques De Arthenay, or
you'll be sorry for it when you have done a mischief you can't undo."

Abby wondered afterward what power had spoken in her voice; it must
have had some unusual force, for De Arthenay, after a moment's
hesitation, did as she bade him,--turned slowly and left the room, and
the next moment was heard mounting the garret stairs. While he was
gone, she still held Marie in her arms, and begged her not to tremble
so, and told her that her husband was a good man, a kind man, that he
had never hurt any one in his life except evil-doers, and had been a
good son and a good brother to his own people while they lived. Then
she bade the child look around at her new home, and see how neat and
good everything was, and how tastefully Jacques had arranged it all for
her. "Why, he vallies the ground you step on, child!" she cried. "You
don't want to be afraid of him, dear. You can do anything you're a
mind to with him, I tell you. See them flowers there, in the chaney
bowl! Now he never looked at a flower in his life, Jacques didn't; but
knowing you set by them, he went out and picked them pretty ones o'
purpose. Now I call that real thoughtful, don't you, Maree?"

So the good soul talked on, soothing the girl, who said no word, only
trembled, and gazed at her with wide, frightened eyes; but Abby's heart
was heavy within her, and she hardly heard her own cheery words. What
kind of union was this likely to be, with such a beginning! Why had
she not realised, before it was too late, how set Jacques was in his
ways, and how he never would give in to the heathen notions and
fiddling ways of the foreign child?

Sadly the good woman bade farewell to the bridal couple, and left them
alone in their new home. On the threshold she turned back for a
moment, and had a moment's comfort; for Jacques had taken Marie's hands
in his own, and was gazing at her with such love in his eyes that it
must have melted a stone, Abby thought; and perhaps Marie thought so
too, for she forgot to make the horns, and smiled back, a little faint
piteous smile, into her husband's face.

So Abby went away to