The
Strangest Thing Is That The Brothers Who, Like Their Sisters, Have Two
Or Three Years Between Them, Are Not A Bit Like Their Sisters; They Are
Blue-Eyed And Seem A Different Race."
That, I said, made it more wonderful still.
A curiously symmetrical
family. Rather awkward for their neighbours, and people who had
business relations with them.
"Yes - perhaps," he said, "but it served them very well on one occasion
to be so much alike."
I began to smell a dramatic rat and begged him to tell me all about it.
He said he didn't mind telling me. Their name was Prage - Antony and
Martin Prage, of Red Pit Farm, which they inherited from their father
and worked together. They were very united. One day one of them, when
riding six miles from home, met a girl coming along the road, and
stopped his horse to talk to her. She was a poor girl that worked at a
dairy farm near by, and lived with her mother, a poor old widow-woman,
in a cottage in the village. She was pretty, and the young man took a
liking to her and he persuaded her to come again to meet him on another
day at that spot; and there were many more meetings, and they were fond
of each other; but after she told him that something had happened to
her he never came again. When she made enquiries she found he had given
her a false name and address, and so she lost sight of him.
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