their own sake, all would have preferred the inattentive mornings.
Lily often tried to persuade Claude to allow her to tell her father how troublesome the boys were, but never with any effect. He once took up a book he had been using with them, and pointing to the name in the first page, in writing, which Lily knew full well, 'Henry Mohun,' she perceived that he meant to convince her that it was useless to try to dissuade him, as he thought the patience and forbearance his brother had shown to him must be repaid by his not shrinking from the task he had imposed upon himself with his young brothers, though he was often obliged to sit up part of the night to pursue his own studies.
If Claude had rather injudiciously talked too much to Lilias of 'her principle,' and thus kept it alive in her mind, yet his example might have made its fallacy evident. She believed that what she called love had been the turning point in his character, that it had been his earnest desire to follow in Henry's steps, and so try to comfort his father for his loss, that had roused him from his indolence; but she was beginning to see that nothing but a sense of duty could have kept up the power of that first impulse for six years. Lily began to enter a little into his principle, and many things that occurred during these holidays made her mistrust her former judgment. She saw that without the unvarying principle of right and wrong, fraternal love itself would fail in outward acts and words. Forbearance, though undeniably a branch of love, could not exist without constant remembrance of duty; and which of them did not sometimes fail in kindness, meekness, and patience? Did Emily show that softness, which was her most agreeable characteristic, in her whining reproofs-in her complaints that 'no one listened to a word she said'-in her refusal to do justice even to those who had vainly been seeking for peace? Did Lily herself show any of her much valued love, by the sharp manner in which she scolded the boys for roughness towards herself? or for language often used by them on purpose to make her displeasure a matter of amusement? She saw that her want of command of temper was a failure both in love and duty, and when irritated, the thought of duty came sooner to her aid than the feeling of love.
And Maurice and Reginald were really very provoking. Maurice loved no amusement better than teasing his sisters, and this was almost the only thing in which Reginald agreed with him. Reginald was affectionate, but too reckless and violent not to be very troublesome, and he too often flew into a passion if Maurice attempted to laugh at him; the little girls were often frightened and made unhappy; Phyllis would scream and roar, and Ada would come sobbing to Emily, to be comforted after some rudeness of Reginald's. It was not very often that quarrels went so far, but many a time in thought, word, and deed was the rule of love transgressed, and more than once did Emily feel ready to give up all her dignity, to have Eleanor's hand over the boys once more. Claude, finding that he could do much to prevent mischief, took care not to leave the two boys long together with the elder girls. They were far more inoffensive when separate, as Maurice never practised his tormenting tricks when no one was present to laugh with him, and Reginald was very kind to Phyllis and Ada, although somewhat rude.
It was a day or two after they returned that Phyllis was leaning on the window-sill in the drawing- room, watching a passing shower, and admiring the soft bright tints of a rainbow upon the dark gray mass of cloud. 'I do set my bow in the cloud,' repeated she to herself over and over again, until Adeline entering the room, she eagerly exclaimed, 'Oh Ada, come and look at this beautiful rainbow, green, and pink, and purple. A double one, with so many stripes, Ada. See, there is a little bit more green.'
'There is no green in a rainbow,' said Ada.
'But look, Ada, that is green.'
'It is not real green. Blue, red, and yellow are the pragmatic colours,' said Ada, with a most triumphant air. 'Now are not they, Maurice?' said she, turning to her brother, who was, as usual, deep in entomology.
'Pragmatic, you foolish child,' said he. 'Prismatic you mean. I am glad you remember what I tell you, however; I think I might teach you some science in time. You are right in saying that blue, red, and yellow are the prismatic colours. Now do you know what causes a rainbow?'
'It is to show there is never to be another flood,' said Phyllis, gravely.
'Oh, I did not mean that,' said Maurice, addressing himself to Ada, whose love of hard words made him deem her a promising pupil, and whom he could lecture without interruption. 'The rainbow is caused by-'
'But, Maurice!' exclaimed Phyllis, remaining with mouth wide open.
'The rainbow is occasioned by the refraction of the rays of the sun in the drops of water of which a cloud is composed.'
'But, Maurice!' again said Phyllis.
'Well, what do you keep on 'but, Mauricing,' about?'
'But, Maurice, I thought it said, 'I do set my bow in the cloud.' Is not that right? I will look.'
'I know that, but I know the iris, or rainbow, is a natural phenomenon occasioned by the refraction.'
'But, Maurice, I can't bear you to say that;' and poor Phyllis sat down and began to cry.
Ada interfered. 'Why, Maurice, you believe the Bible, don't you?'
This last speech was heard by Lilias, who just now entered the room, and greatly surprised her. 'What can you be talking of?' said she.
'Only some nonsense of the children's,' said Maurice, shortly.
'But only hear what he says,' cried Ada. 'He says the rainbow was not put there to show there is never to be another flood!'
'Now, Lily,' said Maurice, 'I do not think there is much use in talking to you, but I wish you to understand that all I said was, that the rainbow, or iris, is a natural phenomenon occasioned by the refraction of the solar-'
'You will certainly bewilder yourself into something dreadful with that horrid science,' said Lily. 'What is the matter with Phyl?'
'Only crying because of what I said,' answered Maurice. 'So childish, and you are just as bad.'
'But do you mean to say,' exclaimed Lily, 'that you set this human theory above the authority of the Bible?'
'It is common sense,' said Maurice; 'I could make a rainbow any day.'
Whereupon Phyllis cried the more, and Lily looked infinitely shocked. 'This is philosophy and vain deceit,' said she; 'the very thing that tends to infidelity.'
'I can't help it-it is universally allowed,' said the boy doggedly.
It was fortunate that the next person who entered the room was Claude, and all at once he was appealed to by the four disputants, Lily the loudest and most vehement. 'Claude, listen to him, and tell him to throw away these hateful new lights, which lead to everything that is shocking!'
'Listen to him, with three ladies talking at once?' said Claude. 'No, not Phyl-her tears only are eloquent; but it is a mighty war about the token of peace and love, Lily.'
'The love would be in driving these horrible philosophical speculations out of Maurice's mind,' said Lily.
'No one can ever drive out the truth,' said Maurice, with provoking coolness. 'Don't let her scratch out my eyes, Claude.'
'I am not so sure of that maxim,' said Claude. 'Truth is chiefly injured-I mean, her force weakened, by her own supporters.'
'Then you agree with me,' said Maurice, 'as, in fact, every rational person must.'
'Then you are with me,' said Lily, in the same breath; 'and you will convince Maurice of the danger of this nonsense.'
'Umph,' sighed Claude, throwing himself into his father's arm-chair, ''tis a Herculean labour! It seems I agree with you both.'
'Why, every Christian must be with me, who has not lost his way in a mist of his own raising,' said Lilias.
'Do you mean to say,' said Maurice, 'that these colours are not produced by refraction? Look at them on those prisms;' and he pointed to an old-fashioned lustre on the chimney-piece. 'I hope this is not a part of the Christian faith.'
