It would seem a lonely life she led now, yet Rosalie found it not so. The solitude was peopled with her multitudinous rich affections, high purposes, and bright hopes of the future. Through the day she sang at her active household work, or fell into pleasing reverie over her needle. In the afternoon, when Mark returned, they partook of an early supper, rested, and then took a pleasant woodland walk, or occupied the evening hours with a book. On the first Sabbath Mrs. Attridge called in her carryall to offer the young couple the two vacant seats to church; a favour which, after some little hesitation and reflection, they frankly and gratefully accepted. And, afterwards, Mark Sutherland was much pleased when it fell in the way of his profession to do Mr. Attridge a gratuitous service—a favour which it was rather difficult to make honest Paul Attridge accept, who answered to all Mr. Sutherland’s grateful acknowledgments and expostulations, “That neighbours should be neighbours, but that professional men should be paid for their services.” As passed the week, so passed the autumn, bringing little change in the circumstances of our young friends. Mr. Sutherland gained admittance to the bar; but as yet his professional duties were confined exclusively to office business, the drawing up of deeds, bonds, mortgages, &c. And this was not profitable. Indeed, many of his best-meaning neighbours strongly advised him to take up government land, and turn his attention to agriculture. But this Rosalie opposed with all her might, encouraging him to be constant to his profession as he was to his wife—“for better for worse, for richer for poorer.” She alone, suppressing all complaint and concealing all her personal privations, continued to cheer and strengthen the struggler. She alone had an invincible faith in his future—his future of greatness and wide usefulness. Autumn waned, and the severe winter of those latitudes approached. Early in December a heavy fall of snow covered the ground two or three feet in depth, rendering the road almost impassable between Wolf’s Grove and Shelton, and nearly blockading our friends in their log cabin. It was with the greatest difficulty that Mark Sutherland performed the three miles’ journey from his home to his office, and Rosalie was a close prisoner in her house. The snow lay on the ground several weeks, during which time the hardships and privations of the young couple were so numerous and so great as to determine them to seize the earliest opportunity of removing into town; and Mark accordingly sought a house in Shelton. And having found one vacated by a family about to emigrate to Arkansas, he rented it at once, and availed himself of the first favourable change in the weather to remove to town and take possession of it.