Patricia Doyle was more than two years the junior of her cousin Louise and very unlike her.Patsy's old father，Major Gregory Doyle，said "she wore her heart on her sleeve，"and the girl was frank and outspoken to a fault.Patsy had no "？gure"to speak of，being somewhat dumpye in build，nor were herpiquanta features at all beautiful.Her nose tipped at the end，her mouth was broad and full—lipped and her complexion badly freckled.But Patsy's hair was of that indescribable shade that hovers between burnished gold and sunset carmine."Fiery red"she was wont to describe it，and most people considered it，very justly，one of her two claims to distinction.Her other admirable feature was a pair of magni？cent deep blue eyes—merry，mischievous and scintillating as diamonds.Few could resist those eyes，and certain it is that Patsy Doyle was a universal favorite and won friends without a particle of effort.
The younger of the three nieces，Elizabeth De Graf，was as beautiful a girl as you will often discover，one of those rarely perfect creations that excite our wonder and compel admiration—as a beautiful picture or a bit of statuary will.Dreamy and reserved in dispositionb，she lacked the graciousness of Louise and Patsy's compelling good humor；yet you must not think her stupid or disagreeable.Her reserve was really diffidence；her dreamy，expressionless gaze the result of a serious nature and a thoughtful temperament.Beth was quite practical and matter—of—fact，the reverse of Patsy's imaginative instincts or Louise's affected indifference.Those who knew Beth De Graf best loved her dearly，but strangers found her hard to approach and were often repulsedc by herunresponsivea manner.Underneath all，the girl was a real girl，with many splendid qualities，and Uncle John relied upon Beth's stability more than on that of his other two nieces.Her early life had been a stormy and unhappy one，so she was but now developing her real nature beneath the warmth of her uncle's protecting love.
Topping the brow of a little hill the wagon came to a smooth downward grade where the road met the quaint old bridge that spanned Little Bill Creek，beside which stood the antiquatedb flour and feed millc that had given Millville its name.The horses were able to maintain their brisk trot across the bridge and through the main street of the town，which was merely a cluster of unimposingd frame buildings，that lined either side of the highway for the space of an ordinarycity block.Then they were in the wilds again and rattling over another cobblestone trail.
"This'ere country's nuth'n'but pine woods'n'cobblestones，"sighed old Hucks，as the horses subsided to a walk."Lor'knows what would 'a'happened to us without the trees！They saves our grace，so's to speak.""I think the scenery is beautiful，"observed Patsy."It's so different from other country places.""Not much farming around here，I imagine，"said ArthurWeldon.
"More than you'd think，sir，"replied Thomas."There's certain crops as thrives in stony land，an'a few miles north o'here，towards Huntingdon，the soil's mighty rich 'n'productive.Things ain't never as bad as they seem in this world，sir，"he added，turning his persistently smiling face toward the young man.
Mr.Merrick sat beside the driver on the front seat.The middle seat was occupied by Patsy and Beth，between whom squeezed little Mary，the maid.Louise and Arthur had the back seat.
A quarter of a mile beyond the town they came to a sort of lane running at right angles with the turnpike，and down this lane old Hucks turned his team.It seemed like a forbidding prospect，for ahead of them loomed only a group of tall pines marking the edge of the forest，yet as they came nearer and made a little bend in the road the Wegg farm suddenly appeared in view.The house seemed so cozy and homelike，set upon its green lawn with the tall pines for a background，that the girls，who knew the place well，exclaimed with delight，and Arthur，who now saw it for the first time，nodded his head approvingly.
Uncle John was all excitement over the arrival at his country home.An old fashioned stilea was set in a rail fence which separated the grounds from the lane，and Hucks drew up the wagon so his passengers could all alight upon the stepof the stile.Patsy was out at a bound.Louise followed more deliberately，assisted by her boy husband，and Beth came more sedately yet.But Uncle John rode around to the barn with Thomas，being eager to see the cows and pigs and poultry with which the establishment was liberally stocked.
The house was of two stories，the lower being built ofcobblestones and the upper of pine slabs；but it had been artistically done and the effect was delightful.It was a big，rambling dwelling，and Mr.Merrick had furnished the old place in a lavish manner，so that his nieces would lack no modern comfort when they came there to spend a summer.
On the porch stood an old woman clothed in a neat ginghama dress and wearing a white apron and cap.Her pleasant face was wreathed inb smiles as she turned it toward the laughing，chattering group that came up the path.Patsy spied her and rushed up to give old Nora a hug and kiss，and the other two girls saluted the blind woman with equal cordiality，for long ago she had won the love and devotion of all three.Arthur，who had heard of Nora，pressed her handand told her she must accept him as another of her children，and then she asked for Mr.Merrick and ran in to get the breakfast served.For，although blind，old Nora was far from being helpless，and the breakfast she had prepared in anticipation of their arrival was as deliciously cooked as if she had been able to use her eyes as others did.
