neither be altered nor avoided.

The Reverend John Walden, however, was one of those rarely gifted
individuals who cannot assume an aspect which is foreign to
temperament. He was of a cheerful, even sanguine disposition, and
his countenance faithfully reflected the ordinary bent of his
humour. Seeing him at a distance, the casual observer would at once
have judged him to be either an athlete or an ascetic. There was no
superfluous flesh about him; he was tall and muscular, with well-
knit limbs, broad shoulders, and a head altogether lacking in the
humble or conciliatory 'droop' which all worldly-wise parsons
cultivate for the benefit of their rich patrons. It was a
distinctively proud head,--almost aggressive,--indicative of strong
character and self-reliance, well-poised on a full throat, and set
off by a considerable quantity of dark brown hair which was
refractory in brushing, inclined to uncanonical curls, and
plentifully dashed with grey. A broad forehead, deeply-set, dark-
blue eyes, a straight and very prominent nose, a strong jaw and
obstinate chin,--a firmly moulded mouth, round which many a sweet
and tender thought had drawn kindly little lines of gentle smiling
that were scarcely hidden by the silver-brown moustache,--such,
briefly, was the appearance of one, who though only a country
clergyman, of whom the great world knew nothing, was the living
representative of more powerful authority to his little 'cure of
souls' than either the bishop of the diocese, or the King in all his
majesty.

He was the sole owner of one of the smallest 'livings' in England,--
an obscure, deeply-hidden, but perfectly unspoilt and beautiful
relic of mediaeval days, situated in one of the loveliest of