ittle about the far different scenes among which I live."

"Do," said Grace, "I shall be glad to hear anything about your life."

Caroline's story was almost as strange to Grace as Grace's had been to
Caroline, for it had to do with a class of society about which the
young lighthouse girl knew nothing. Miss Dudley was used to shine in
circles to which Grace Darling would not have been admitted, and her
description of the habits of thought and modes of life of the people
among whom she associated, was graphic, piquant, and most entertaining.
Like many a merry, warm-hearted girl, she cherished a half-contemptuous
opinion of much that was fashionable and gay; and to hear her speak of
the crowded assemblies, the dreary dinner parties, the exciting balls,
and the endless morning calls, was to give Grace both surprise and
amusement.

The two girls, as they thus stood, talking to each other of their lives
and associations, formed a very striking contrast. Miss Dudley was
tall, dark and beautiful, with classic features and graceful form. Her
mother was a Spanish lady, and from her the daughter had inherited the
splendid dark eyes and hair, as also the ardent and romantic nature,
which had thrown such a spell round Grace. Her intellect was of the
highest order, and had been most carefully cultivated, so that her
natural enthusiasm had been restrained and disciplined, but not subdued
or weakened. She had only just left school, which was one of the
highest class, where all the modern accomplishments necessary to a
refined education had been thoroughly taught her; and as she had moved
always in good society, her manners had acquired that easy grace and
polish which can scarcely be obtained under other circumstances.

Grace Darling, on the contrary, had, as we know, received little if any
instruction beyond that which her own father had imparted. But
although her opportunities had been meagre, she had made the most of
them, and was at this time a well-informed girl, with good natural
abilities. She was possessed of that simple courtesy which has its
root in self-forgetfulness, and an earnest desire to please, and which
will always prevent its owner from breaking any of those rules of
etiquette which make the wheels of society run so smoothly; and there
was an easy winning grace, and guileless sweetness of manner, about the
simple true-hearted lighthouse maiden, that won its way to all hearts.
There is no such beautifier as