enviable couple they were! To Rose it seemed the essence of irony
that her life with Martin should be looked upon as a flower of
matrimony. Yet, womanlike, she took an unconfessed comfort in the
fact that this was so--that no one, unless it were Nellie, was
sufficiently astute to fathom the truth. To be sure, the Wades
were never spoken of as "happy." They were invariably alluded to
as "good folks," "true blue," "solid people," "ideal husband and
wife," or "salt of the earth."

Each year they gave a round sum to the church, and Martin took
caustic gratification in the fact that, although his attitude
toward it and religion was well known, he too was counted as one
of the fold. To do its leaders justice, he admitted that this
might have been partly through their hesitancy to hurt Rose who
was always to be found in the thick of its sale-dinners, bazaars
and sociables. How she was able to accomplish so much without
neglecting her own heavy duties, which now included cooking,
washing, mending and keeping in order the old shack for the hired
men, was a topic upon which other women feasted with appreciative
gusto, especially at missionary meetings when she was not
present. It really was extraordinary how much she managed to put
into a day. Early as Martin was up to feed his stock, she was up
still earlier that she might lend a hand to a neighbor, harrowed
by the fear that gathered fruit might perish. Late as he plowed,
in the hot summer evenings, her sweaty fingers were busy still
later with patching, brought home to boost along some young wife
struggling with a teething baby. She seemed never too rushed to
tuck in an extra baking for someone even more rushed than
herself, or to make delicious broths and tasty dishes for sick
folk. In her quiet way, she became a real power, always in