There life will be brighter for us all.

Now, Marie, seat yourself at the piano and sing:-- 'Sing me the songs that to me were so dear, Long, long ago.
Sing me the songs I delighted to hear, Long, long ago." As Marie sang the anxiety faded from her face, a sense of security stole over her, and she sat among her loved ones a happy wife and mother.

What if no one recognized her on that lonely plantation! Her world was, nevertheless, there.

The love and devotion of her husband brightened every avenue of her life, while her children filled her home with music, mirth, and sunshine.
Marie had undertaken their education, but she could not give them the culture which comes from the attrition of thought, and from contact with the ideas of others.

Since her school-days she had read extensively and thought much, and in solitude her thoughts had ripened.