should not rest easy in Paradise,—I have been very hard to you, my husband."
"No, no," said I, "only a bit sharp, and that was good for me."
"Yes, I was hard, jealous, quarrelsome; I know I often made the house too hot for you, but,—Colas, it was because I loved you!"
"You don't say so!" said I, patting her hand. "Well, there are all sorts of ways of loving, but yours was rather a queer one."
"I did love you," she went on, "and you never returned it, that was why I was cross, and you were always good-natured. Oh! that laugh of yours. Colas! You don't know how it made me suffer, till sometimes I really thought it would kill me. You covered yourself with it like a hood, and storm as I might, I could never get at you."
"My poor old dear!" said I; "that was because I do not like water!"
"There you go again laughing! But I don't mind it now that the chill of the grave is upon me; your laughter seems something warm and comforting, it does not anger me now,—and. Colas, say that you forgive me."
"You were an honest, hard-working, faithful wife to me," said I earnestly; "perhaps you were not always as sweet as sugar, but in this world, you
