Both sisters possessed the family characteristics which he lacked.
They were tall and surprisingly upright, considering the weight of
years which pressed upon their thin shoulders. They retained the
manners--almost the speech--of the eighteenth century, to which the
grandmother who was responsible for their upbringing had belonged;
and, with the exception of a very short experience of matrimony
in Lady Belstone's case, they had always resided exclusively at
Barracombe.

Lady Belstone, besides her widowed dignity, had the advantage of
her sister in appearance, mainly because she permitted art, in some
degree, to repair the ravages of time. A stiff _toupet_ of white curls
crowned the withered brow, below a widow's cap; and, when she smiled,
which was not very often, a double row of pearls was not unpleasantly
displayed. Miss Crewys had never succumbed to the temptations of
worldly vanity. She scrupulously parted her scanty grey locks above
her polished forehead, and cared not how wide the parting grew. If
she wore a velvet bow upon her scalp, it was, as she truly said, for
decency, and not for ornament; and further, she allowed her wholesome,
ruddy cheeks to fall in, as her ever-lengthening teeth fell out. The
frequent explanations which ensued, regarding the seniority of the
widow, were a source of constant satisfaction to Miss Crewys, and
vexation to her sister.

"You might be a hundred years old, Georgina," she would angrily
lament.

"I very soon _shall_ be a hundred years old, Isabella, if I live as
long as my grandmother did," Miss Crewys would triumphantly reply. "It