That day I could
scarcely tell them apart, though afterwards I wondered at it. Rose was
the very prettiest child I ever saw, and Lily pretty nearly the most
beautiful person.
Lily was already the tallest. Her thick and wavy hair was _blonde
cendree_, and all her features were perfectly Grecian. Her eyes were of
a very dark blue, that turned into nothing but clear radiance when she
was opposed or in any way excited. Her complexion was healthful, but
would be described as soft and warm, rather than brilliant. Her whole
fair little face was about as firm and spirited as a fair girlish face
could be.
Rose's larger eyes were of a pure, deep hazel. Her hair, as thick and
curly as Lily's, was far more glossy and flossy, and of the yellowest,
brightest gold-color. Her nose--a most perfect little nose--was more
aquiline than her sister's. Her skin was of the tints of the finest
rare-ripe peaches,--pure white and deepening pink; and all around her
mouth were dimples lying in wait for her to laugh.
As they met Miss Dudley, with the many-colored Virginia creepers behind
them and the flowers behind her, a better _tableau vivant_ of "first
youth" and _first age_ could scarcely have been put together than they
made. It made me wish that I had been more than a painter of
_specimens_.
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