Saint Bartholomews Eve | Page 3

hands, and having been brought up in the country, and
being possessed of a large share of the shrewdness and common sense
for which Frenchwomen are often conspicuous, she succeeded
admirably. The neatness and order of the house, since their marriage,
had been a matter of surprise to her husband's friends; and it was not
long before the farm showed the effects of her management. Gaspard
Vaillant assisted her with his counsel and, as the French methods of
agriculture were considerably in advance of those in England, instead
of things going to rack and ruin, as John Fletcher's friends predicted, its
returns were considerably augmented.
Naturally, she at first experienced considerable opposition. The
labourers grumbled at what they called new-fangled French fashions;
but when they left her, their places were supplied by her countrymen,
who were frugal and industrious, accustomed to make the most out of
small areas of ground, and to turn every foot to the best advantage.
Gradually the raising of corn was abandoned, and a large portion of the
farm devoted to the growing of vegetables; which, by dint of plentiful
manuring and careful cultivation, were produced of a size and quality
that were the surprise and admiration of the neighbourhood, and gave
her almost a monopoly of the supply of Canterbury.
The carters were still English; partly because Lucie had the good sense
to see that, if she employed French labourers only, she would excite
feelings of jealousy and dislike among her neighbours; and partly
because she saw that, in the management of horses and cattle, the
Englishmen were equal, if not superior, to her countrymen.
Her life was a busy one. The management of the house and farm would,
alone, have been a heavy burden to most people; but she found ample
time for the tenderest care of the invalid, whom she nursed with
untiring affection.

"It is hard upon a man of my size and inches, Lucie," he said one day,
"to be lying here as helpless as a sick child; and yet I don't feel that I
have any cause for discontent. I should like to be going about the farm,
and yet I feel that I am happier here, lying watching you singing so
contentedly over your work, and making everything so bright and
comfortable. Who would have thought, when I married a little French
lady, that she was going to turn out a notable farmer? All my friends
tell me that there is not a farm like mine in all the country round, and
that the crops are the wonder of the neighbourhood; and when I see the
vegetables that are brought in here, I should like to go over the farm, if
only for once, just to see them growing."
"I hope you will be able to do that, some day, dear. Not on foot, I am
afraid; but when you get stronger and better, as I hope you will, we will
take you round in a litter, and the bright sky and the fresh air will do
you good."
Lucie spoke very fair English now, and her husband had come to speak
a good deal of French; for the service of the house was all in that
language, the three maids being daughters of French workmen in the
town. The waste and disorder of those who were in the house when her
husband first brought her there had appalled her; and the women so
resented any attempt at teaching, on the part of the French madam, that
after she had tried several sets with equally bad results, John Fletcher
had consented to the introduction of French girls; bargaining only that
he was to have good English fare, and not French kickshaws. The
Huguenot customs had been kept up, and night and morning the house
servants, with the French neighbours and their families, all assembled
for prayer in the farmhouse.
To this John Fletcher had agreed without demur. His father had been a
Protestant, when there was some danger in being so; and he himself
had been brought up soberly and strictly. Up to the time of his accident
there had been two congregations, he himself reading the prayers to his
farm hands, while Lucie afterwards read them in her own language to
her maids; but as the French labourers took the place of the English
hands, only one service was needed.

When John Fletcher first regained sufficient strength to take much
interest in what was passing round, he was alarmed at the increase in
the numbers of those who attended these gatherings. Hitherto four men
had done the whole work of the farm; now there were twelve.
"Lucie, dear," he said uneasily one day, "I know that you are a capital
manager; but it is impossible that a farm the size