e--principally on account of the
soldiers--was served every Sunday and holiday from a larger center, and
thither the Dales regularly drove to worship.

Seven children had been born to the worthy couple, but death had snatched
all in turn except the last; this was Penelope (our Penny), who, needless
to say, was the idol of both parents. The result of their devotion was a
rather strict surveillance, to which she was subjected, not only during
childhood's years, but with even greater insistence when she had reached
maidenhood. For it became necessary then to guard their treasure from
any adventurer who might seek to win her in marriage for the sake of the
goodly dowry which every one knew must fall to her lot. Her father would
often remark with no little show of determination: "Penny shall never
throw herself away on any whipper-snapper of a fellow! She'll not be a
pauper, and she can afford to wait a bit till she meets her match!"

It is not to be surprised, therefore, that Penny should hold her pretty
head rather high. No mere plowman would dare to aspire to the hand of a
landlord's only daughter, and no marriageable farmer to whom Penny might
aspire was to be found in the neighborhood. As to the military--Penny
would have scouted the idea of wedding a common soldier, and was sensible
enough to turn a cold shoulder upon the undisguised glances of admiration
of youthful and impressionable officers. Thus it came about that she had
blossomed into a graceful girl of twenty--small in stature, yet not
without good looks--and yet remained heart-whole.

Among their few intimate acquaintances the Dales had a particular
attraction for one of the married sergeants of the barracks and his
wife--both Catholics. Sergeant Pike and his better-half would not
infrequently, especially during the summer months, stroll over to the inn
of an evening--sure of a hearty welcome to a cup of tea and a chat. Pike
had seen service in India, and his adventures would thrill his rustic
audience in the inn, as they listened over pipe and mug to his stirring
narratives. His wife was equally entertaining toward Sarah Dale and her
daughter, in the little glass-partitioned bar in the corner of the
"house-place"; she had been maid to many an officer's lady, and had
traveled as far abroad as her husband. Thus while "the tented field" and
its dangers held enthralled the larger company of men, present fashions
and past adventures--though less exciti