Charles replied nothing, though his mother paused. After a short time, Lady Tyrrell went on: "I grieve that that man is so much here, Charles; he is a dangerous, a bad, and an unprincipled man; and I should grieve still more if your character were anything but what it is; but I feel certain that, notwithstanding all his art and all his eloquence, both of which are undoubtedly very great, Mr. Driesen could no sooner lead you than he could make oil and water mix." "Indeed, my dear mother, he could not," replied Charles Tyrrell: "I know him thoroughly, I think, and dislike him not a little; but still I shall keep away from him as far as possible; for he is continually throwing out those sneers at everything that is holy and good; at religion, at virtue, at feeling, which leave unpleasant impressions; stains, in fact, which are difficult to efface." "Do, do avoid him as much as possible, Charles," replied his mother. "I sincerely believe that the only safeguard against such insidious serpents is that tendency which nature has given us to avoid them from our first abhorrence of their doctrines and feelings: I believe, otherwise, very few would escape them." "Oh, I do not think that," replied Charles Tyrrell; "I never yet heard of a strong-built house being knocked down by footballs or beaten to pieces by peashooters; but the one and the other may break the windows if they go on too long. At all events, I shall keep out of his way, because I dislike him. But tell me," he added, "what is this he has been speaking of, and which must be true from the changes I observed as I passed? The old manor-house, it seems, is repaired and beautified, and I saw a servant standing at the lodge: what is the meaning of all this?" A smile, sad and thoughtful, but still a smile, came over Lady Tyrrell's countenance. "It is a plot against you, I fear, my dear Charles," she replied: "but, still, not one that is likely to be very dangerous, unless you yield yourself to it. You have heard," she added, seeing that she had excited her son's surprise, "you have often heard your father speak of Mr. Effingham, who had a beautiful place in Northumberland. It was at that house, then Mr. Effingham's father's, that I first met my husband, and he has two or three times talked of taking you there." "I forgot all about it," interrupted Charles Tyrrell; "I remember the name of Effingham, and hearing that he was my father's cousin, I think, but nothing more."