“If Jock had made this acrostic, it might be pipe,” said Babie; “but this is Armine’s.” It was thereupon handed to the elders, who read, in a boyish handwriting-- Twins, parted from their rocky nest, We run our wondrous race, And now in tumult, now at rest, Flash back heaven’s radiant face. 1. While both alike _this_ name we bear, And both like life we flow, 2. And near us nestle sweet and fair What man most loves below. Alike it is our boasted claim To nurse the precious juice 3. That maddened erst the Theban dame, With streaming tresses loose. 4. The evening land is sought by one, One rushes towards midday, One to a vigil song has run, One heard Red Freedom’s lay. Tall castles, glorious battlefields Graced this in ages past, But now its mighty power that yields 5. To work my busy last. “Is that your brother Armine’s own?” asked Sir James, surprised. “O yes,” said Janet with impressive carelessness, “all my brothers have a facility in stringing rhymes.” “Not Bobus,” said Elvira. “He does not think it worth while,” said Janet, again absorbing herself in her paper, while the public united in guessing the acrostic; and the only objection was raised by the exact General, who would not allow that the “Marseillaise” was sung at the mouth of the Rhone, and defended Ino’s sobriety. Barbara and Sydney lived upon those acrostics in their travelling bags till they reached Folkestone, and had grown intimate over them. Sir James looked after the luggage, putting gently aside Janet’s strong-minded attempt to watch over it, and she only retained her own leathern travelling case, where she carried her personals, and which, heavy as it was, she never let out of her immediate charge. They all sat on deck, for there was a fine smooth summer sea, and no one was deranged except the two maids, whom every one knew to be always disabled on a voyage. Janet had not long been seated, and was only just getting immersed in her Contemporary, when she received a greeting which gratified her. It was from somewhat of a lion, the author of some startling poems and more startling essays much admired by Bobus, who had brought him to some evening parties of his mother’s, not much to her delectation, since there were ugly stories as to his private character. These were ascribed by Bobus to pious malevolence, and Janet had accepted the explanation, and cultivated a bowing acquaintance.