"I really begin to think you must be a detective, Mr. Vernon, since you are so very observant. Yes, our voices are different and in the wrong way." "The wrong way?" "Ah, you are not so observant as I thought. Yes; Frances has a deep contralto voice, somewhat heavy for a woman, whereas my voice, as you hear, is rather thin in quality. Nature mixed up the voices as we are twins, maybe." It was as he said. Hest's voice had not the volume or the richness of his sister's, but it certainly had a less serious note. Vernon, recalling what Towton had told him of Ida's remark in her letter as to Francis being dismal and misanthropic, wondered that she could have been so mistaken. He was really more cheerful than Frances, and did not seem to treat life in her aggressively sober manner. Besides, that he was a philanthropist was in itself an argument against his being of a gloomy disposition. Vernon judged that Mr. Hest was much more of an optimist than was his sister, and that he lacked in some measure that sterling common sense which, to put it plainly, made her company rather dull. If Frances had been the man and Francis had been the woman their temperaments would have suited the change of sex ever so much better. But, perhaps, as Mr. Hest had just observed, since the two were twins nature had got mixed. Vernon would rather have spoken to Lucy, but could not do so, and every now and then fresh guests came to be served. He was therefore left to the society of Hest, and took advantage of the opportunity to learn if the man was in love with Ida. "Did you leave Miss Dimsdale in good health?" he asked. "Oh, yes. She is ever so much brighter, Mr. Vernon. The air of our Yorkshire moors has picked her up wonderfully and has brought colour to her cheeks." "And your sister?" Hest shrugged his shoulders again. "Oh, Frances is always in robust health, Mr. Vernon. I find her company too exhausting for my health. She always wants me to be doing something or saying something, and is never at rest." "You do a good deal yourself in the way of philanthropy?" "Well, I do," said Hest, his dark face lighting up, "but it is really selfish on my part. There is nothing I love so well as to help the unfortunate. I have quite changed the parish of Bowderstyke, and instead of being a Rip Van Winkle sort of place it is now in lively touch with the twentieth century. If you are ever down our way, Mr. Vernon, come and stop at the Hall and you shall see my _opus magnus_--the Bolly Reservoir. Miss Dimsdale was quite amazed when she beheld the strength of the dam." "I have heard of that great work from your sister. She was quite enthusiastic over the enterprise." "What! Frances enthusiastic over anything of that sort? You surprise me, Mr. Vernon, you do, indeed. Frances cares nothing about such things. Poetry and society and a general aimless life is her idea of living, But then she is a woman, and we must not be hard on women."