4 THE SWAN AND HER CREW. 



time, he fixed upon a tall slender young larch-tree. He walked 

 round and round it, and examined it critically, finally lying 

 down on his back at its foot, and, with his eye close to its stem, 

 glanced up it to see if it were perfectly straight. Satisfied on 

 this point, he took out a large clasp-knife, and marked the 

 trunk with a huge cross. Then he crossed the hedge and took 

 his way through a large park, until he came to a paddock and 

 pleasant house nestling among some large lime-trees, and 

 surrounded by croquet lawns and well-kept gardens. It was 

 an old house, built with many wings and projections and in 

 many styles of architecture, the most prominent of which was 

 a heavily-timbered Elizabethan style. Around the two princi- 

 pal sides of the house ran a wooden veranda, which in summer 

 was luxuriantly hung with roses. 



This was Frank Merivale's home, and vaulting over the gate 

 which separated the paddock from the lawn, he went into the 

 house. Coming down the broad staircase into the hall, he 

 met his two sisters ; the eldest, a girl of thirteen, was like her 

 brother, blue eyed and yellow-haired, with a face full of fun 

 and mischief. Her name was Mary. The younger sister bore 

 the same strong family likeness and was barely eleven. 



" Well, merry Mary Merivale," said Frank, " is the pater 

 in?" 



" Yes. Frank, he is in the library." 



" That's all right ; and where are you going? " 



" We are going to dig pupae for you," answered Mary. 



" Then you are a good little woman," replied Frank, catch- 

 ing her round the waist, and giving her a kiss. 



" Have you got a mat to kneel upon, so as not to catch 

 cold ? " 



" Yes, we have got a mat and a trowel, in this basket, and 

 we mean to get you a lot of moths. Don't we, Florrie ? " 



" Yes, ever so many." 



Frank went along the passage, and entered the library. Mr. 

 Merivale was seated at the table writing. He was a pale and 

 studious-looking man, with a very kind and genial expression 

 of face. He owned a small estate on the shores of the Broad, 

 and was a deep thinker and scholarly writer, writing books 

 which were intended chiefly for college libraries. He looked 

 up as his son entered, and said, 



"Well, Frank, what is it?" 



