"Not at all. Not in the least difficult if you set to work in the right way. To begin with, I should certainly check that intimacy, if I were you. No end of mischief comes from boy and girl intimacies, where there is no relationship. I would check it at any cost." "But how is one to check it? I should be glad enough if I could," persisted Sybella. "Of course it is most undesirable! Still, I don't know what to do. If I were to forbid him the Rectory, I am rather afraid—and it would give offence too—" "If you were to forbid him the Rectory, you would settle the matter at once, my dear. Nothing in life but the Trevelyans would be of the slightest importance," said Lady Lucas, with considerable wisdom. "No, things have gone much too far for that. You can't stamp it out—now! You can only try to draw him in some other direction." "How?" Sybella begged to know, for once with brevity. "Don't leave him time for the Trevelyans. Keep your eye upon him, and have all possible engagements apart from them. Mrs. Villiers would surely help you. No? I should have thought, the General's wife—Well, if no other means are successful, I would take the boy elsewhere for his holidays. I would not have him at Dulveriford more than I could possibly help, till his fancy for Jean has died out. For Mr. Trevelyan! Oh, my dear, I know better! I know what boys are. It is Jean he is crazy after, not Mr. Trevelyan. You really are very innocent still of the ways of the world!"—playfully. Sybella bridled and blushed anew at the compliment. "Now you think over my advice. At Christmas you may have to be at home—it may be unavoidable—but Christmas holidays are shorter, and people can't rove about in the fields all day. Summer is the time to have him away. Take him abroad or anywhere—only not here. He will be at College, I suppose, in a year; and think of the length of his summer vacation then. You must keep him out of Jean Trevelyan's way for two or three years; and see what the effect will be. Don't fan the fancy by fighting, but fill his mind with other interests." Sybella did not dislike the notion. It would take a little time to work its way into her brain, but she by no means rejected the scheme. A few difficulties occurred to mind, all of which her companion overruled or smoothed away. By the time Lady Lucas said good-bye, Sybella was much more than half convinced. Tea grew cold, and Cyril did not come in. Sybella began to wax nervous. What if she really had gone too far, had driven the boy to desperation? Worse ideas than wet boots began to assail her—such as maimed limbs, and drowned bodies. Why Cyril should be maimed or drowned, in consequence of what had passed, she could hardly have explained; but whoever expected sequence of thought from Sybella?