Charles Dudley Warner said Susy was made of mind, and Clara of matter.
When Motley, the kitten, died, some one said that the thoughts of the two children need not be inquired into, they could be divined: that Susy was wondering if this was the _end_ of Motley, and had his life been worth while; whereas Clara was merely interested in seeing to it that there should be a creditable funeral.
In those days Susy was a dreamer, a thinker, a poet and philosopher, and Clara--well, Clara wasn't.

In after-years a passion for music developed the latent spirituality and intellectuality in Clara, and her practicality took second and, in fact, even third place.

Jean was from the beginning orderly, steady, diligent, persistent; and remains so.

She picked up languages easily, and kept them.
_Susy aged eleven, Jean three._--Susy said the other day when she saw Jean bringing a cat to me of her own motion, "Jean has found out already that mamma loves morals and papa loves cats." It is another of Susy's remorselessly sound verdicts.
As a child, Jean neglected my books.

When she was nine years old Will Gillette invited her and the rest of us to a dinner at the Murray Hill Hotel in New York, in order that we might get acquainted with Mrs.
Leslie and her daughters.