as they both ought to be. Yet, I must say
that Mr. Bellenden would not have dreamed of
loving Sarah Jane had I not put the idea into his
head. I do not tell her, of course, but nobody
knows how slowly he took the hint, how dilatory
he was in following it up, or the number
of times I could have beaten him for taking all
I told him in as cool a manner as if I was talking
of some one in the Moon. Poor Sarah
Jane! I was obliged to let out a great deal of
her private feelings, which for my sex's sake I
blushed to do, but nothing else roused him.
He seemed to take a pleasure in hearing of her
sufferings, looking so conceited and complacent
the while, that I thanked my stars I was not
Sarah Jane, or he Robert. And if her aunt had
not left her that legacy—but come, I won't
be ill natured; they are married; I made the
match; it was my first one, and, as Robert says,
it does me no particular credit.

"People will marry without your help, Patty,
depend on it," says Robert to me, a dozen
times in a week.

"Now, Robert!"

"It's true, Patty; no one assisted you and
me, cut out though you were for a regular old
maid."

That was correct, though I did not tell
Robert so. I have been an old maid ever since
I can remember. When almost a baby, I have
sat for hours, quite still, for fear I should tumble
my clean frock. In my childhood, I knew no
pleasure so great as tidying up all untidy
people's untidynesses. In my girlhood, I
was prim. I liked Quaker dresses, and was
always severe on gushing girls, and wrapped
myself up in so severe a mantle of reserve
and dignity, that it is a miracle how
Robert ever discovered I should make a good
wife. For I do. My goodness me! how I
should hate myself if I did not. For Robert is
such a man. When he came to live with my
uncle as his agricultural pupil, I liked him
before I even saw him. I liked him from what
I heard of him: which was his scraping his
shoes at the door, and then rubbing them
on the mat. I had no shock inwardly when I
first saw him, as Sarah Jane had when she first
saw Mr. Bellenden; but I think that was owing
to my mind being full of telling uncle we ought
to have a new front-door mat. Ours was in that
state that it was about time it should go and do
duty at the back door; but I hesitated to ask
uncle until I saw what sort of young man the
new pupil would be. No one would believe the
fondness of agricultural pupils for mud. They
love it.

That is how Robert and I met. And finding
him particular about his mending, I will not
deny that—making believe, of course, that it
was uncle's—I used to see to it myself. Not
that Robert knows it to this day; indeed, I
am quite ashamed to let the secret out at all;
but it was through his mending that I first
began to take an interest in Robert. He was
particular that his stockings should match.
Though they were all to a thread alike, he could
not bear to have No. 1 put with No. 5, or so
on. I thought a young man so anxious that
his stockings should match, what a match he
would make! and I ran over the names of all
the girls I knew, to see which would suit him
best. I never thought of myself, but Robert
says he always thought of me. He always
intended, from the very first moment he ever saw
me, that I should be his wife.

"And you would have broken your heart,
Patty," says Robert, "had I married any other
woman."

I believe he was right. Anyhow, when Dr.
Leech proposed to me, and uncle recommended
me to think well about it before I refused so
good an opportunity of settling myself, I was
quite a year before I could forbear shuddering
at his name even. To be sure, the name is not
a pretty one, but that had nothing to do with
my shuddering. It was entirely owing to the
dread of having so nearly been his wife.

"What is ailing you?" said Robert to me
one day.

"Nothing; oh, nothing, Robert," I answered.
Somehow, I had got to call him Robert, though
I don't know how it happened, unless it was
that he was so friendly, and so much at home
with us at once.

"Do you want any leeches?" said he, looking
wickedly at me.

I became scarlet, and thought I could have
died of shame.

"Come, you need not blush about it, for you
are not going to marry him, you know."

"Oh, Robert, uncle says——"

"Uncle says you are to marry me. I have
just now been speaking to him about it."

"My goodness me, Robert!"

"I thought it the most honourable course to
pursue, Patty, as of course I cannot offer you
such a fortune as Dr. Leech can."

"Fortune! Oh, my dear Robert, I hate
fortune."

"I know you do, Patty, so I may conclude
that it is settled."

"Oh! my dear Robert——"

"I am so glad I am your dear Robert!
That's all I wanted, Patty."

And upon my word, there was I an engaged
woman, and engaged, too, to the only man I ever
could or would have loved, without anybody's
help. But of course we did not marry for a
long time after that. I had time to make all
my own things. However, my story has
nothing to do with that, but is all about my last
bit of match-making.

Our village is a very pretty one. It nestles in
a valley, which valley is crowned with hills—
mountains, I may say, of every form and height.
Round shouldering hills, covered with a patchwork
of fields, and dotted with farm-houses and
barns, lead up to slopes of plantations and oak
copses, which are again surmounted by the
purple-clothed grouse hills. According to the
lights and shadows, so does the aspect of the
mountains change, giving a never-ending variety
of scene. A broad and very beautiful river makes