r art in a manner too
defiant. 'Yeu pays no rent, or yeu couldn't do it.' Miss Le Smyrger was
an old maid, with a pedigree and blood of her own, a hundred and thirty
acres of fee-simple land on the borders of Dartmoor, fifty years of age,
a constitution of iron, and an opinion of her own on every subject under
the sun.

And now for the parson and his daughter. The parson's name was
Woolsworthy--or Woolathy as it was pronounced by all those who lived
around him--the Rev. Saul Woolsworthy; and his daughter was Patience
Woolsworthy, or Miss Patty, as she was known to the Devonshire world of
those parts. That name of Patience had not been well chosen for her for
she was a hot-tempered damsel, warm in her convictions, and inclined to
express them freely. She had but two closely intimate friends in the
world, and by both of them this freedom of expression had been fully
permitted to her since she was a child. Miss Le Smyrger and her father
were well accustomed to her ways, and on the whole well satisfied with
them. The former was equally free and equally warm-tempered as herself,
and as Mr. Woolsworthy was allowed by his daughter to be quite paramount
on his own subject--for he had a subject--he did not object to his
daughter being paramount on all others. A pretty girl was Patience
Woolsworthy at the time of which I am writing, and one who possessed
much that was worthy of remark and admiration had she lived where beauty
meets with admiration, or where force of character is remarked. But at
Oxney Colne, on the borders of Dartmoor, there were few to appreciate
her, and it seemed as though she herself had but little idea of carrying
her talent further afield, so that it might not remain for ever wrapped
in a blanket.

She was a pretty girl, tall and slender, with dark eyes and black hair.
Her eyes were perhaps too round for regular beauty, and her hair was
perhaps too crisp; her mouth was large and expressive; her nose was
finely formed, though a critic in female form might have declared
it to be somewhat broad. But her countenance altogether was very
attractive--if only it might be seen without that resolution for
dominion which occasionally marred it, though sometimes it even added
to her attractions.

It must be confessed on behalf of Patience Woolsworthy that the
circumstances of her life had peremptorily called upon her to exercise
dominion. She had lost her mother when she was sixteen, and had had
neither brother nor