Master Philip was leaning on his gun; Master Sidney was chasing a peacock butterfly; Arthur was silently gazing on the shining lake and the still foliage that drooped over its surface.

In the countenance of this young man there was something that excited a certain interest.

He was less handsome than Philip, but the expression of his face was more prepossessing.

There was something of pride in the forehead; but of good nature, not unmixed with irresolution and weakness, in the curves of the mouth.

He was more delicate of frame than Philip; and the colour of his complexion was not that of a robust constitution.