ock's."

"Well, I don't now, Drew," said the boy, smiling frankly; "but the place
is all so stiff and formal and dull, and I can't help wanting to be back
in the country. I used to think one was tied down there at the school,
but that was free liberty to this."

"Oh, you young barbarian! School and the country! Right enough for
boys."

"Well, we're boys."

The other coughed slightly, took a measured pace or two right and left,
and gave a furtive glance at his handsome, effeminate face and slight
form in the glass. Then he said, rather haughtily:

"You are, of course; but I should have thought that you might have begun
to look upon me as a man."

"Oh, I will, if you like," said the other, smiling,--"a very young one,
though. Of course you're ever so much older than I am. But there, I'm
going to try and like it; and I like you, Forbes, for being so good to
me. I'm not such a fool as not to know that I'm a sort of un-licked
cub, and you will go on telling me what I ought, to do and what I
oughtn't. I can play games as well as most fellows my age; but all this
stiff, starchy court etiquette sickens me."

"Yes," said his companion, with a look of disgust on his face;
"miserable, clumsy Dutch etiquette. As different from the grand,
graceful style of the old _regime_ and of Saint Germains as chalk is
from cheese."

"I say," said the younger of the pair merrily, after imitating his
companion's glances at the doors, "you must not talk like that here."

"Talk like what?" said the elder haughtily.

"Calling things Dutch, and about Saint Germains. I say, isn't that high
treason?"

"Pooh!--Well, yes, I suppose you're right. Your turn now. But we won't
quarrel, Franky."

"Then, don't call me that," said the boy sharply; "Frank, if you like.
I did begin calling you Drew. It's shorter and better than Andrew. I
say, I am ever so much obliged to you."

"Don't mention it. I promised Sir Robert I would look after you."

"Yes, my father told me."

"And I like Lady Gowan. She's as nice as she is handsome. My mother
was something like her."

"Then she must have been one of the dearest, sweetest, and best ladies
that ever lived," cried the boy warmly.

"Thank ye, Frank," said the youth, smiling and laying his arm in rather
an affected manner upon the speaker's shoulder, as he crossed his legs
and again posed himself with his left hand upon his sword hilt. But
there was no affectation in the tone of the