"That will not make up for the connection. My heart sank, Jenny, from the time I heard that those Vivians were coming back. I kept Frank away as long as I could--but there's no help for it. It seems the fate of my boys to be the prey of those sirens." "Well, then, dear Mrs. Poynsett, do pray believe, on my word, that Eleonora is a different creature!" "Is there no hope of averting it? I thought Camilla would--poor Frank is such insignificant game!" "And when it does come, don't be set against her, please, dear Mrs. Poynsett. Be as kind to her--as you were to me," whispered Jenny, nestling up, and hiding her face. "My dear, but I knew you! You were no such case." "Except that you all were horribly vexed with us, because we couldn't help liking each other," said Jenny. "Ah! my poor child! I only wish you could have liked any one else!" "Do you?" said Jenny, looking up. "Oh no, you don't! You would not have me for your supplementary child, if I had," she added playfully; then very low--"It is because the thought of dear Archie, even ending as it did, is my very heart's joy, that I want you to let them have theirs!" And then came a break, which ended the pleading; and Jenny was obliged to leave Compton without much notion as to the effect of her advice, audacious as she knew it to have been. CHAPTER XIV Neither Land Nor Water A light that never was on sea or land.--WORDSWORTH Nothing could be prettier than Rosamond's happiness in welcoming her school-boy brothers, and her gratitude to Mrs. Poynsett for inviting them, declaring that she liked boys. Her sons, however, dreaded the inroad of two wild Irish lads, and held council what covers and what horses could most safely be victimized to them, disregarding all testimony in their favour from interested parties. When, therefore, Terence and Thomas de Lancey made their appearance, and were walked in for exhibition by their proud and happy sister, there was some surprise at the sight of two peculiarly refined, quiet boys, with colourless complexions, soft, sleepy, long-lashed, liquid brown eyes, the lowest of full voices, and the gentlest of manners, as if nothing short of an explosion could rouse them. And it was presently manifest that their sister had said rather too little than too much of Terry's abilities. Not only had he brought home a huge pile of prizes, but no sooner was the seance after dinner broken up, than he detained Julius, saying, in a very meek and modest tone, "Rose says you know all the books in the library." "Rose undertakes a great deal for me. What is this the prelude to?" "I wanted to ask if I might just look at any book about the physical geography of Italy, or the History of Venice, or the Phoenicians." "Why, Terry?" "It is for the Prize Essay," explained the boy; "the subject is the effect of the physical configuration of a country upon the character of a nation."