They lived in an old house outside the town, surrounded by woods, and here the children, George and his younger sister, roamed about to their hearts' content, making collections and keeping pets, like the born naturalists they were. Shockingly idle children but marvellously happy ones, and in the peculiar 'let alone' system of their household, they grew up, neither of them remembering any reproof, far less any punishment, nor any attempt to make them learn lessons or carry on studies for which they were not inclined. A long interval of years separated the brothers, now only two in number,[1] and the younger brother and sister were looked on and treated as children long after they had emerged from childhood. The father and mother seem to have attended Presbyterian and Anglican churches with entire impartiality, but the younger members of the family preferred the English church, and were confirmed in it. Religion was a potent influence with the boy in quite early years, and there grew up in him a purpose of taking Holy Orders, a purpose which met with no encouragement from either of his parents. If of intellectual achievement he gave as yet no promise, at least there were the signs of a singularly pure and unselfish nature which seemed to grow and develope with the growing years. All through his life he was peculiarly tender, gentle, and unselfish, and his younger sister describes a little scene of how, while a children's party was going on downstairs, George found her upstairs alone and miserable, suffering from some odd childish misery of nerves, unable to go down, and yet hating to be alone; how he at once soothed and petted her, sat by her the whole evening, telling her stories and successfully driving away her unhappiness. The most characteristic bit appears at the end. This sort of unselfish conduct was so usual, that his little sister really forgot to thank him, nor did it occur to her till long after that there was anything unusual in his willingness to sacrifice a whole evening's amusement to what most boys would have regarded as mere fancifulness, only deserving a due amount of severe teasing. During these years the Romanes family spent their summers at Dunskaith, on the shores of the Cromarty Firth. Here George Romanes had his first lessons in sport at the hands of Dr. Brydon, the well-known survivor of the fatal retreat from Cabul, 1842.[2] He soon became an ardent sportsman and excellent shot, and not until his fatal illness began did he ever fail to keep August 12 and September 1 in the proper way.