supposed to be the Wife of my Host, rose
from her seat upon my entrance, and received me with a slight and
distant reverence. She made no answer to my compliment, but
immediately re-seating herself, continued the work on which She had
been employed. Her Husband's manners were as friendly as hers were
harsh and repulsive.

'I wish, I could lodge you more conveniently, Monsieur,' said He; 'But
we cannot boast of much spare room in this hovel. However, a chamber
for yourself, and another for your Servant, I think, we can make shift
to supply. You must content yourself with sorry fare; But to what we
have, believe me, you are heartily welcome.' ----Then turning to his
wife--'Why, how you sit there, Marguerite, with as much tranquillity as
if you had nothing better to do! Stir about, Dame! Stir about! Get
some supper; Look out some sheets; Here, here; throw some logs upon the
fire, for the Gentleman seems perished with cold.'

The Wife threw her work hastily upon the Table, and proceeded to
execute his commands with every mark of unwillingness. Her countenance
had displeased me on the first moment of my examining it. Yet upon the
whole her features were handsome unquestionably; But her skin was
sallow, and her person thin and meagre; A louring gloom over-spread her
countenance; and it bore such visible marks of rancour and ill-will, as
could not escape being noticed by the most inattentive Observer. Her
every look and action expressed discontent and impatience, and the
answers which She gave Baptiste, when He reproached her good-humouredly
for her dissatisfied air, were tart, short, and cutting. In fine, I
conceived at first sight equal disgust for her, and prepossession in
favour of her Husband, whose appearance was calculated to inspire
esteem and confidence. His countenance was open, sincere, and
friendly; his manners had all the Peasant's honesty unaccompanied by
his rudeness; His cheeks were broad, full, and ruddy; and in the
solidity of his person He seemed to offer an ample apology for the
leanness of his Wife's. From the wrinkles on his brow I judged him to
be turned of sixty; But He bore his years well, and seemed still hearty
and strong: The Wife could not be more than thirty, but in spirits and
vivacity She was infinitely older than the Husband.

However, in spite of her unwillingness, Marguerite began to prepare the
supper, while the Wood-man conversed gaily on different subjects. The
Postillion,