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LEMENT and Henry Walford were twin brothers—how like and yet how unlike. In appearance there was everything to lead one to see that they could both lay claim to the same birthday; their faces were identical, their figures the same. Fortune, however, had placed them in totally distinct channels. Their mother, in her day (for she had been dead these twenty years), was an actress of rare ability, and people had crowded the theatres night after night to follow her impressive acting. Both her sons had inherited her talents in no small measure, and, two years previous to her death, they had launched out in their first struggle to win fresh laurels for the name around which all that was gifted had gathered. Talents, alas! may live and shine, yet they may live and scarcely flicker. To-day, these two men were brothers only in name. The gifts of the one had been recognised by a fickle public, the abilities of the other never even had a thought.

Clement Walford! His name was on everybody's lips. The critics gave him columns in the papers, theatrical managers almost knelt at his feet, and paid eagerly the money he demanded to secure his services; society held open its doors, and the great actor entered at his ease. And Henry? A struggler—nothing more; a disappointed struggler. Clever, but unknown;