were in appearance,
they grew up as dissimilar in feelings and opinions as it is possible
to conceive, and yet loving each other dearly. Still Helen never for a
moment fancied that any one in the village of Abbeyweld could compete
with her in any way. She had never questioned herself as to this
being the case, but the idea had been nourished since her earliest
infancy--had never been disputed, except perhaps when latterly a town
belle, or even a more conceited specimen, a country belle, visited in
the neighbourhood; but popular voice (and there _is_ a popular voice,
be it loud or gentle, everywhere) soon discovered that blonde, and
feathers, and flowers, had a good deal to do with this disturbing
of popular opinion; and after a few days, the good people invariably
returned to their allegiance. "Ah! ah!" old Mrs. Myles would observe
on these occasions--Ah! ah!"--I told you they'd soon find the fair
lady was shaded by her fine laces. I daresay now she's on the look-out
for a good match, poor thing! Not that Helen is handsome--don't look
in the glass, Helen, child! My grandmother always said that Old Nick
stood behind every young lady's shoulder when she looked in the glass,
with a rouge-pot all ready to make her look handsomer in her own eyes
than she really was; which shows how wicked it is to look much in a
glass. Only a little sometimes, Nell, darling--we'll forgive her for
looking _a little_; but certainly when I looked at the _new_ beauty in
church the other day, and then looked, I know where, I thought--but
no matter, Helen, no matter--I don't want to make either of my girls
_vain_."

Why Mrs. Myles so decidedly preferred Helen to Rose, appeared a
mystery to all who did not know the secret sympathy, the silent
unsatisfied ambition, that lurked in the bosoms of both the old and
the young. Mrs. Myles had lived for a long time upon the reputation of
her own beauty; and whenever she needed _sympathy_ (a food which the
weak-minded devour rapidly,) she lamented to one or two intimates,
while indulging in the luxury of _tea_, that she was an ill-used
person, simply because she had not been a baronet's lady at the very
least. Helen's ambition echoed that of her grandmother; it was not the
longing of a village lass for a new bonnet or a brilliant dress--it
was an ambition of sufficient strength to have sprung up in a castle.
She resolved to be something beyond what she was; and there are very
few who have strength to give b