the shoulders; the features also were similar in cast, and sallow in
hue; the same the black eyes and hair. John had large whiskers,
otherwise the likeness would have been more striking; and his face was
not disfigured by the strange black mark. He was the better looking of
the two; his face wore an easy, good-natured, free expression; while
Frederick's was cold and reserved. Many people called John Massingbird a
handsome man. In character they were quite opposite. John was a
harum-scarum chap, up to every scrape; Fred was cautious and steady as
Old Time.

Seated in the only free chair in the room--free from litter--was a tall,
stout lady. But that she had so much crimson about her, she would have
borne a remarkable resemblance to those two young men, her sons. She
wore a silk dress, gold in one light, green in another, with broad
crimson stripes running across it; her cap was of white lace garnished
with crimson ribbons, and her cheeks and nose were crimson to match. As
if this were not enough, she wore crimson streamers at her wrists, and a
crimson bow on the front of her gown. Had you been outside, you might
have seen that the burnished gold on the window-panes had turned to
crimson, for the setting sun had changed its hue: but the panes could
not look more brightly, deeply crimson, than did Mrs. Verner. It seemed
as if you might light a match at her face. In that particular, there was
a contrast between her and the perfectly pale, sallow faces of her sons;
otherwise the resemblance was great.

"Fred," said Mrs. Verner, "I wish you would see what they are at with
the shirts and things. I sent Rachel after them, but she does not come
back, and then I sent Mary Tynn, and she does not come. Here's John as
impatient as he can be."