better for it; and perhaps Sir William Devereux and his eldest nephew
were the only allies in the world who had no jealousy of each other.



CHAPTER II.

A FAMILY CONSULTATION.--A PRIEST, AND AN ERA IN LIFE.

"YOU are ruining the children, my dear Sir William," said my gentle
mother, one day when I had been particularly witty; "and the Abbe
Montreuil declares it absolutely necessary that they should go to
school."

"To school!" said my uncle, who was caressing his right leg, as it lay
over his left knee,--"to school, Madam! you are joking. What for,
pray?"

"Instruction, my dear Sir William," replied my mother.

"Ah, ah; I forgot that; true, true!" said my uncle, despondingly, and
there was a pause. My mother counted her rosary; my uncle sank into a
revery; my twin brother pinched my leg under the table, to which I
replied by a silent kick; and my youngest fixed his large, dark,
speaking eyes upon a picture of the Holy Family, which hung opposite to
him.

My uncle broke the silence; he did it with a start.

"Od's fish, Madam,"--(my uncle dressed his oaths, like himself, a little