etween the towns of
Cluhir and Riverstown, either of which meant a five or six mile drive,
and to meet such friends and acquaintances as the neighbourhood
afforded, was, in winter, a matter confined to the hunting-field, and
in summer was restricted, practically, to the incidence of lawn-tennis
parties. Possibly the children of Mount Music, thus thrown upon their
own resources, developed a habit of amusing themselves that was as
advantageous to their caretakers as to their characters. It certainly
enhanced very considerably their interest in the advent of Master St.
Lawrence Coppinger. He became the subject of frequent and often heated
discussions, the opinion most generally held, and stated with a fine
simplicity, being that he would prove to be "a rotter."

"India," John said, "had the effect of making people effemeral."

"Effeminate, ass!" corrected Richard, shortly.

"Anyhow," said a Twin, charitably, "we can knock that out of him!"

"Anyhow," said Judith, next to Richard in age and authority, "if he
_is_ a rotter, he can go into the Brats' band. You want someone
decent," she added, addressing the Twin, whose remark she felt to have
savoured of presumption.

This family had, for purposes of combat and of general entertainment,
divided itself into two factions, that fought endlessly among the
woods and shrubberies. A method had been recently introduced by
Richard of utilising the harmless, necessary pocket-handkerchief as a
sling for the projection of gravel, and its instant popularity had
resulted in the denuding of the avenues of ammunition, and in arousing
a great and just fury in the bosom of the laundress. "God knows it
isn't me has all the hankershiffs holed this way!" she pointed out.
"Thim children is the divil outlawed. Thim'd gallop the woods all the
night, like the deer!"

The assortment of the family had been decided rather on the basis of
dignity, than on that of a desire to equalise the sides, and thus it
befel that Richard, Judith, and John, with the style and title of The
Elder Statesmen, were accustomed to drive before them the junior
faction of The Brats, consisting of the Twins, Christian, and the
dogs, Rinka and Tashpy, with a monotony of triumph that might have
been expected to pall, had not variety been imparted by the invention
of the punishments that were inflicted upon prisoners. There had been
a long and hot July day of notable warfare. The Twins, if small,
were swift and wily; even C