And in character she was the counterpart of her looks.

She was honest; she had a certain simplicity, the straightforward simplicity of strength which comprises much gentleness and excludes violence.

Of her courage there is a story still told in Ramelton, which Feversham could never remember without a thrill of wonder.

She had stopped at a door on that steep hill leading down to the river, and the horse which she was driving took fright at the mere clatter of a pail and bolted.

The reins were lying loose at the moment; they fell on the ground before Ethne could seize them.