The little maiden's hopes of a perfect brother in the constant knight rose high, and his appearance and demeanour did not disappoint them. He had a fine soldierly figure, and that air of a thorough gentleman which Phoebe's Holt experience had taught her to appreciate; his manners were peculiarly gentle and kind, especially to Mrs. Fulmort; and Phoebe did not like him the less for showing traces of the effects of wounds and climate, and a grave, subdued air, almost amounting to melancholy. But before he had been three days at Beauchamp, Juliana made a virulent attack on the privileges of her younger sisters. Perhaps it was the consequence of poor Maria's volunteer to Sir Bevil--'I am glad Juliana is going with you, for now no one will be cross to me;' but it seemed to verify the poor girl's words, that she should be hunted like a strange cat if she were found beyond her own precincts, and that the other two should be treated much in the same manner. Bertha stood up for her rights, declaring that what mamma and Miss Fennimore allowed, she would not give up for Juliana; but the only result was an admonition to the governess, and a fierce remonstrance to the poor meek mother. Phoebe, who only wished to retire from the stage in peace, had a more difficult part to play. 'What's the matter now?' demanded Mervyn, making his way up to her as she sat in a remote corner of the drawing-room, in the evening. 'Why were you not at dinner?' 'There was no room, I believe.' 'Nonsense! our table dines eight-and-twenty, and there were not twenty.' 'That was a large party, and you know I am not out.' 'You don't look like it in that long-sleeved white affair, and nothing on your head either. Where are those ivy-leaves you had yesterday--real, weren't they?' 'They were not liked.' 'Not liked! they were the prettiest things I have seen for a long time. Acton said they made you look like a nymph--the green suits that shiny light hair of yours, and makes you like a picture.' 'Yes, they made me look forward and affected.' 'Now who told you that? Has the Fennimore got to her old tricks?' 'Oh no, no!' 'I see! a jealous toad! I heard him telling her that you reminded him of her in old times. The spiteful vixen! Well, Phoebe, if you cut her out, I bargain for board and lodging at Acton Manor. This will be no place for a quiet, meek soul like me!' Phoebe tried to laugh, but looked distressed, uncomprehending, and far from wishing to comprehend. She could not escape, for Mervyn had penned her up, and went on: 'You don't pretend that you don't see how it is! That unlucky fellow is heartily sick of his bargain, but you see he was too soft to withstand her throwing herself right at his head, and doing the "worm in the bud," and the cruel father, green and yellow melancholy, &c., ever since they were inhumanly parted.' 'For shame, Mervyn. You don't really believe it is all out of honour.'