word and act manifest it, that the prediction was often made that one could never survive the other's loss. They were truthful, natural, generous,—intuitively shrinking from all ignoble motives or actions. A happy gayety was theirs, although tempered by a sweet seriousness, as if it were "not all of life to live,"—and of either it might aptly have been said:
And she has a grace in being gay, that even mourners approve,
For the root of some grave earnest thought is understruck so lightly
As to justify the foliage and waving flowers above."
Their personal resemblance was extraordinary. A classic head, dark wavy hair, a pure white brow, where goodness sat enthroned, eyes of changeful hue, from bluish gray almost to hazel, clearly-cut features and sweet smiling mouth, would describe either; and often a "Comedy of Errors" was enacted when both were present at some festive scene. The following is a laughable illustration of this: An admirer of one sister startled the other, by a declaration of affection which she knew was not intended for her. In vain she endeavored to check the ardent wooer. "You are certainly mistaken, sir,—it cannot be I to whom you would say this,—do you not wish to see my sister?" "No," was the easy reply, "I cannot distinguish you, at any
