The Foster-Sisters by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

THERE could hardly be two people more differently constituted than Amabel Leighton and myself, which is perhaps one reason why we have continued such fast friends all through life. I was always well and strong, able to bear fatigue, and caring nothing for any danger that I could see. At the same time, I was dreadfully afraid of all the creatures and powers of darkness, and still more afraid of being found fault with or laughed at, not only by people whom I loved and respected, but by those for whom I didn't care a rush.

Amabel, on the contrary, was delicate in body, shrinking from exertion or exposure. She was very timid. She was afraid, even, of our own petted cows, till she learned to milk that she might help Sister Lazarus; and she was terrified at our big watch dog, which adored her, and would wag his tail at the most distant glimpse of her.