"The likeness that hangs near the window, you will see, is my uncle, taken twenty years ago; the other, to the left of the mantelpiece, is his brother James, my father."
"They resemble each other in some measure," said Mrs. Pryor; "yet a difference of character may be traced in the different mould of the brow and mouth."
"What difference?" inquired Caroline, accompanying her to the door. "James Helstone—that is, my father—is generally considered the best looking of the two: strangers, I remark, always exclaim what a handsome man! Do you think his picture handsome, Mrs. Pryor?"
"It is much softer or finer featured than that of your uncle."
"But where or what is the difference of character to which you alluded? Tell me: I wish to see if you guess right."
"My dear, your uncle is a man of principle: his forehead and his lips are firm, and his eye is steady."
"Well, and the other? Do not be afraid of offending me: I always like the truth."
"Do you like the truth? It is well for you: adhere to that preference—never swerve thence. The other, my dear, if he had been living now, would probably have furnished little support to his daughter. It is, however, a graceful head—taken in youth, I should think. My dear (turning abruptly), you acknowledge an inestimate value in principle?"
