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 tasted.  With that spot Bridget was especially delighted.  It was, just then, as green as grass could be, and Kitty had found its plants so very sweet, that she had scarce descended once to trespass on the garden.  Here and there the imprint of her little hoof was to be traced on a bed, it is true, but she appeared to have gone there more to look after the condition of the garden than to gratify her appetite.

While on the Summit, Mark pointed out to his wife the fowls, now increased to something like fifty.  Two or three broods of chickens had come within the last month, making their living on the reef that was separated from that of the crater by means of the bridge of planks.  As two or three flew across the narrow pass, however, he was aware that the state of his garden must be owing to the fact that they still found a plenty on those rocks for their support.  In returning to the ship, he visited a half-barrel prepared for that purpose, and, as he expected, found a nest containing a dozen eggs.  These he took the liberty of appropriating to his own use, telling Bridget that they could eat some of them for their breakfast.