Her eyes were luminous as the stars, and black as midnight; while her raven tresses, gathered beneath a spotted kerchief tied round her head, escaped in many a wanton curl down her shoulders.

Her figure was slight, but exquisitely proportioned; and she had the smallest foot and ankle that ever fell to the lot of woman.

Her attire was far from unbecoming, though of the coarsest material; and her fairy feet were set off by the daintiest shoes and hose.

Such was the singular and captivating creature that attracted the apprentice's attention.
Her father, Mike Macascree, was upwards of sixty, but still in the full vigour of life, with features which, though not ill-looking, bore no particular resemblance to those of his daughter.

He had a good-humoured, jovial countenance, the mirthful expression of which even his sightless orbs could not destroy.