children. They were remarkably dissimilar. Edward was comely and manly,
no more; could walk up to a five-barred gate and clear it; could row all
day, and then dance all night; and could not learn his lessons to save
his life.

In his sister Julia modesty, intelligence, and, above all, enthusiasm
shone, and made her an incarnate sunbeam.

This one could learn her lessons with unreasonable rapidity, and Mrs.
Dodd educated her herself, from first to last; but Edward she sent to
Eton, where he made good progress--in aquatics and cricket.

In spite of his solemn advice--"you know, mamma, I've got no
headpiece"--he was also sent to Oxford, and soon found he could not have
carried his wares to a better market. Advancing steadily in that line of
study towards which his genius lay, he was soon as much talked about in
the university as any man in his college, except one. Singularly enough,
that one was his townsman--much Edward's senior in standing, though not
in age. Young Alfred Hardie was doge of a studious clique, and careful
to make it understood that he was a reading man who boated and cricketed
to avoid the fatigue of lounging.

To this young Apollo, crowned with variegated laurel, Edward looked up
from a distance, praised him and recorded his triumphs in all his
letters; but he, thinking nothing human worthy of reverence but
intellect, was not attracted by Edward, till at Henley he saw Julia, and
lo! true life had dawned. He passed the rest of the term in a soft
ecstasy, called often on Edward, and took a prodigious interest in him,
and counted the days till he should be for four months in the same town
as his enchantress. Within a month of his arrival in Barkington he