erwards she saw Arsinoe sleeping so
calmly by her side, she felt as if she would like to shake her; but she
was so accustomed to bear all the troubles of the family alone, and to be
unkindly repelled by her sister whenever she attempted to admonish her,
that she forbore.

Arsinoe had a good and tender heart, but she was young, pretty, and vain.
With affectionate persuasion she might be won over to anything, but
Selene, when ever she remonstrated with her, made her feel her
superiority over herself, acquired from her care of the family and her
maternal character. Thus, not a day passed without some quarrelling and
tears between these two sisters who were so dissimilar, and yet, both so
well disposed. Arsinoe was always the first to offer her hand for a
reconciliation, but Selene would rarely have a kinder answer ready to her
affectionate advances than, "Let be," or "Oh yes, I know!" and their
outward intercourse bore an aspect of coolness, which was easily worked
up to an outbreak of hostile speeches. Hundreds of times they would go to
bed without wishing each other 'good-night,' and still more often would
they avoid any morning greeting when they first met in the day.

Arsinoe liked talking, but in Selene's presence she was taciturn; there
were few things in which Selene took pleasure, while her sister delighted
in every thing which can charm youth. It was the steward's eldest
daughter who attended to the daily needs of the children, their food and
clothes; it was the second who superintended their games, and their
dolls. The eldest watched and taught them with anxious care, detecting in
every little fault the germ of some evil tendency in the future, while
the other enticed them into follies, it is true, but opened their minds
to joyous impressions, and attained more by kisses and kind words than
Selene could by fault-finding. The children would call Selene when they
wanted her, but would fly to Arsinoe as soon as they saw her. Their
hearts were hers, and Selene felt this bitterly; it seemed to her to be
unjust, for she saw clearly that her sister could reap, from mere
frivolous play in her idle hours, a sweeter reward than she could earn by
the anxiety, trouble and exhausting toil, in which she often spent her
nights.

But children are not unjust in this way. It is true that they keep an
account in their heart and not in their head. Those who give them the
warmth of affection they pay back most honestly.

On this