This is very far from the truth. Mary had splendid hazel eyes,
with a dancing light in them when she smiled, ruddy auburn hair, white
teeth, a deeply-dimpled chin, and a vivacity and archness of expression,
which served only in her present state of tutelage for the subjugation
of old women and shepherd boys. Mary had been taught to believe that her
chances of future promotion were of the smallest; that nobody would ever
talk of her, or think of her by-and-by when she in her turn would make
her appearance in London society, and that it would be a very happy
thing for her if she were so fortunate as to attract the attention of a
fashionable physician, a Canon of Westminster or St. Paul's, or a
barrister in good practice.
Mary turned up her pert little nose at this humdrum lot.
'I would much rather spend all my life among these dear hills than marry
a nobody in London,' she said, fearless of that grand old lady at whose
frown so many people shivered. 'If you don't think people will like me
and admire me--a little--you had better save yourself the trouble of
taking me to London.
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