o such intimate relations with Miss
Lambart, it was only natural that they should grow very friendly with
her. It was therefore a bitter blow to Erebus to find that she was not
only engaged to their Uncle Maurice but also about to be married to him
in the course of the next few weeks. She grumbled about it to the
Terror and did not hesitate to assert that his bad example in the
matter of the princess had put the idea of love-making into these older
heads. Then, in a heart to heart talk, she strove earnestly with Miss
Lambart, making every effort to convince her that love and marriage
were very silly things, quite unworthy of those who led the strenuous
life. She failed. Then she tried to persuade Sir Maurice of that
plain fact, and failed again. He declared that it was his first duty,
as an uncle, to be married before his nephew, and that if he were not
quick about it the Terror would certainly anticipate him. Erebus
carried his defense to the Terror with an air of bitter triumph; and
there was a touch of disgusted misanthropy in her manner for several
days. The princess on the other hand found the engagement the most
natural and satisfactory thing in the world. Her only complaint was
that she and the Terror were not old enough to be married on the same
day as Miss Lambart.

Probably Miss Lambart and Sir Maurice enjoyed the life at the knoll
even more than the children, for the felicity of lovers is the highest
felicity, and the knoll is the ideal place for them. Sir Maurice
arrived at it not so very much later, considering his urban habit, than
sunrise; and he did not leave it till long after sunset. But the
pleasantest days will come to an end; and the camp was broken up, since
the archduke's tenancy of the Grange expired, and the princess must
return to Germany. She was bitterly grieved at parting with the
Terror, and assured him that she would certainly come to England the
next summer, or even earlier, perhaps at Christmas, to see him again.
It seemed not unlikely that after her short but impressive association
with the Twins she would have her way about it. Nevertheless, in spite
of her exhaustive experience of the strenuous life, and of the firm
ideals of those who led it, at their parting she cried in the most
unaffected fashion.

Soon after her departure from the Grange the Twins learned that Sir
James Morgan, its owner, had returned from Africa, where he had for
years been hunting big game, and p