"Hast thou ever heard a saying, Helena, that 'a man sees only that which he brings eyes to see'? There is much truth in it. No man can understand a character which is higher or broader than his own. Admire it he may; enter into it, he cannot. Human character is a very complicated thing."
"Then one may be too low to see a man's character?"
"True; and one may be too high. A single eye will never understand a double one.—Or they may be too far asunder. A miser and a spendthrift are both in the wrong, but neither of them can feel with the other."
"But where the temperaments are alike—?" said I; for I always think Guy and I were cast in the same mould.
"They never are quite alike," she replied. "As in a shield borne by two brothers, there is always a difference."
"Pray you, holy Mother, do you think my brother Guy and me alike?"
"Alike, yet very different," she said, and smiled. "Cast from one mould,—yet he on the one side of it, and thou on the other."
"What do you think is the difference, holy Mother? May I know?"
"Wouldst thou like to know, Helena?" she said, and smiled again.
"Oh, I think I can bear to hear my faults," said I. "My pride is not of that sort."