"I was born in England, madame; but at eight years of age went with my father to Honfleur, where I married, and continued to reside until four years ago, when my poor husband followed the remains of his last remaining child to the grave, and in less than a fortnight after died of the _grippe_ himself. I had no means of living then, being too old to go out as a _femme de journée_, my only means of gaining a livelihood; so I returned to the place where I was born, and my mother's youngest brother allows me thirty-five pounds a year, upon condition that I am never more than a month out of England again." We soon became great friends, and by degrees I learned her history. This uncle of hers was a year younger than herself--a thorough John Bull, who hated the French, and ridiculed every thing that was foreign. His heart, however, was kind and generous, and he no sooner heard of the destitute condition in which his aunt was left, than he hastened across the channel for her, bought in her clothes and furniture, which she was forced to sell to enable her to satisfy her creditors, and then made her a present of them all again, offering to convey her to her native country, and settle upon her enough to enable her to live there decently; which allowance, however, was to cease if she was ever known to be more than a month out of England. "Time enough for her to pray over her French friends' graves, poor benighted Catholic that she be! but I won't have more of my money spent among them foreign frog-eaters nor I can help." The poor woman had no other choice; but it was several years before she reconciled herself to habits so different from those to which she had been so long accustomed; and to the last she preserved the French mode in dressing, eating, and manner. At the topmost story of a high house she took two unfurnished rooms; the largest contained her bed, _secrétaire_, _commode_, _pendule_, _prie-dieu_, and whatever was best and gayest of her possessions. The room behind was _consacrée_, as she called it, to pots and pans, basins and baskets, her night-quilt and pillow, and whatever else was not "convenable" to display to "le monde;" but the front apartment was where she lived, slept, cooked, ate, and prayed; and a nice, clean, cheerful, well-furnished room it was, and many a pleasant hour have I spent in it with the old lady, conversing upon cookery and politeness--two requisites she found the English quite deficient in, she said. I confess I am somewhat inclined to agree with her, especially as to the former; and those who agree with me in opinion will perhaps be glad to have her recipes for the inexpensive French dishes which fine cooks despise too much to print in cookery-books.