r him, prepared with a neatness and method to which he had long
been a stranger. That was a very delicious meal to both. The husband had
lighted a fire in the galley, where the wife had cooked the meal, which
consisted principally of some pan-fish, taken in the narrow channels
between the rocks, and which had been cleaned by Mark himself, as they
sailed along. It was, indeed, a great point of solicitude with this
young husband to prevent his charming wife from performing duties for
which she was unfitted by education, while the wife herself was only too
solicitous to make herself useful. In one sense, Bridget was a very
knowing person about a household. She knew how to prepare many savoury
compounds, and had the whole culinary art at her fingers' ends, in the
way of giving directions. It was no wonder, then, that Mark found
everything she touched, or prepared, good, as everything she said
sounded pleasant and reasonable. The last is a highly important
ingredient in matrimonial life, but the first has its merit. And Bridget
Woolston was both pleasant and reasonable. Though a little romantic, and
inclined to hazard all for feeling, and what she conceived to be duty,
at the bottom of all ran a vein of excellent sense, which had been
reasonably attended to. Her temper was sweetness itself, and that is one
of the greatest requisites in married happiness. To this great quality
must be added affection, for she was devoted to Mark, and nothing he
wished would she hesitate about striving to obtain, even at painful
sacrifices to herself. One as generous-minded and manly as her husband,
could not fail to discover and appreciate such a disposition, which
entered very largely into the composition of their future happiness.

Our young couple did not visit the crater and the Summit until the sun
had lost most of its power. Then Mark introduced his wife into his
garden, and to his lawn. Exclamations of delight escaped the last, at
nearly every step; for, in addition to the accidental peculiarities of
such a place, the vegetation had advanced, as vegetation only can
advance within the tropics, favoured by frequent rains and a rich soil.
The radishes were half as large as Bridget's wrists, and as tender as
her heart. The lettuce was already heading; the beans were fit to pull;
the onions large enough to boil, and the peas even too old. On the
Summit Mark cut a couple of melons, which were of a flavour surpassing
any he had ever before tas