la Rosa adopted him, and to make his son happy he left all he possessed
to be equally divided at his death between them. He was in bad health,
and died when Ambrose was fifteen and Cyril fourteen; from that time
they were their own masters and refused to have any division of their
inheritance but continued to live together; and had so continued for
upwards of ten years.

Shortly after hearing this history I met the brothers together at a
house in the village, and a greater contrast between two men it would
be impossible to imagine. They were alike only in both being big, well-
shaped, handsome, and well-dressed men, but in their faces they had the
stamp of widely separated classes, and differed as much as if they had
belonged to distinct species. Cyril, with a coarse, high-coloured skin
and the primitive features I have described; Ambrose, with a pale dark
skin of a silky texture, an oval face and classic features--forehead,
nose, mouth and chin, and his ears small and lying against his head,
not sticking out like handles as in his brother; he had black hair and
grey eyes. It was the face of an aristocrat, of a man of blue blood, or
of good blood, of an ancient family; and in his manner too he was a
perfect contrast to his brother and friend. There was no trace of
vulgarity in him; he was not self-conscious, not anxious to shine; he
was modesty itself, and in his speech and manner and appearance he was,
to put it all in one word, a gentleman.

Seeing them together I was more amazed than ever at the fact of their
extraordinary affection for each other, their perfect amity which had
lasted so many years without a rift, which nothing could break, as
people said, except a woman.

But the woman who would break or shatter it had not yet appeared on the