Nature had been a lavish benefactress to the one, and a churlish niggard to the other; and Fortune had followed in her sister's wake, and shown just as great an amount of partiality in the distribution of her favors. Philippa Roxby and Janet Penson were the wards of Mr. Chetwode, a good-natured, warm-hearted man, who, having no wife, child, or sister of his own, was expected by the little world of his acquaintance to take unlimited interest in the wives, children, and sisters of other people, and to perform unlimited services in their behalf. About a year had elapsed since the death of two of his friends within a few weeks of each other; the wealthy widower, Mr. Roxby, and the narrowly-jointured widow, Mrs. Penson, conferred on him the somewhat startling responsibility of becoming guardian to two girls of the respective ages of eighteen and nineteen. Philippa Roxby was "a lass wi' golden dower and golden hair," beautiful enough to inspire a poet or painter, and rich enough to satisfy the calculations of the most scheming of heiress-hunters. Janet Penson was remarkably plain; in fact, it would have been somewhat difficult, in this age of bright eyes, luxuriant tresses, and graceful forms, to find any one so, thoroughly destitute of attraction. Her features were irregular; her pale cheek and heavy eye indicated the want of that health which, when combined with youth and cheerfulness, may be said to offer a tolerable substitute for beauty; and worse than all, Janet was palpably deformed, beyond the power of Amesbury to remedy, or of Mrs. Geary to conceal. Perhaps some of my readers will think that the worst still remains to be told, when I add that Janet's fortune was very small; two-thirds of the income of Mrs. Penson expired with her, and a hundred a year was all that remained for the provision of the orphan. Mr. Chetwode, however, was as kind and feeling a man as the most enthusiastic of his friends believed him to be. He made no distinction in his manner between the lovely heiress and her less fortunate companion; the comforts of his house, his carriage, his attentive servants, his pleasant circle of visitors, extended alike to each; but how different were their thoughts and feelings! The one looked at society through a Claude Lorraine glass, the other through a screen of dark crape. Janet, although all immediately connected with her were kind and considerate, had often the trial of encountering, in mixed company, the look of ridicule and the whisper of scorn; she pined for the fond and dear mother by whom she was so tenderly beloved, notwithstanding her personal deficiencies; nor could she, like most young women, suffering under a similar loss, anticipate the time when she should become the object of a still more precious and valuable love; she felt, bitterly felt, that the delight of a calm home, the language of loving eyes, the homage of a true heart--all must be ever withheld from her; and could she only have possessed "the fortune of