"'Tis like something in a romance," said she. "But you must be very weary, and hungry too. We will have supper ready directly. Sweetheart, would you not like to change your dress?" I explained to her that I had no changes, all my luggage having been lost in the wreck, except my basket, which Sister St. Stanislaus had given me, and which I had clung to through all. Without more ado, she carried me to a plain but pretty and comfortable chamber, and sent her two daughters hither and thither for clean linen, a gown, and other necessaries. Then they left me to myself; but presently a black wench came up with a great can of hot water and an armful of towels. I do not remember in my life any bodily sensation more delicious than that clean, well-laundered linen. When I was dressed, I took up a Bible which lay upon my toilette-table and read the one hundred and third Psalm, and then said my prayers, and having thus a little composed myself, I went down-stairs. A most bountiful supper was provided for us, and we sat down, waited upon by a black servant. I had no notion of so much style and ceremony in this remote corner of the world; but I soon found that there were other colonists who kept up much more state than Mr. and Mrs. Folsom. After supper, Andrew and I were left to ourselves in the parlor, and it may be guessed we did not want subjects for talk. I told him my whole story, concealing nothing. "You see what sort of wife you have taken in your haste," said I, in conclusion. "All these things are much worse than aiding and abetting poor Betty, even if I had done so, which I never did." "Ah, Vevette! Don't taunt me with my folly and obstinacy," said Andrew, covering his face. "It was just that which threw you into the hands of your enemies." "My enemies would have had no power, if I had but kept them at arm's length," said I. "It was not your fault that I did not accept Theo's invitation instead of going with Madame de Fayrolles; but the truth was that, when I heard you were going to be married to the Jamaica lady, I thought only of getting out of England before you came into it." "So it was that piece of folly that drove you away," said Andrew. "I wish you could see the Jamaica lady, Vevette. She was indeed very kind to me when I lay ill at her father's house; but she is fifty years old at least, and about as handsome as old Deborah. Dear soul! She gave me a string of beautiful pearls for you, and when I heard you were married, I threw them into the sea." "That was very wasteful; you might have given them to the poor," I returned. "But who told you I was married?" "Nobody said you were actually married; but when I went to Stanton Court, to obtain news of you on my return, I found my lord fuming over a letter he had just received, saying that you were to be married on the morrow to some Frenchman—I don't remember his name—of great wealth and consequence."