I trust that you will be happy here." "These are my sons Ernest and Jules, who will, I am sure, do all in their power to make you comfortable," the marquis said.
The last words were spoken sharply and significantly, and their tone was not lost upon the two boys; they had a moment before been struggling to prevent themselves bursting into a laugh at Harry's reception of their mother's greeting, but they now instantly composed their faces and advanced.
"Shake hands with him," the marquis said sharply; "it is the custom of his country." Each in turn held out his hand to Harry, who, as he shook hands with them, took a mental stock of his future companions.
"Good looking," he said to himself, "but more like girls than boys.
A year in the fifth form would do them a world of good.

I could polish the two off together with one hand." "My daughters," the marquis said, "Mesdemoiselles Marie, Jeanne, and Virginie." Three young ladies had risen from their seats as their father entered, each made a deep curtsy as her name was mentioned, and Harry bowed deeply in return.

Mademoiselle Marie was two years at least older than himself, and was already a young lady of fashion.
Jeanne struck him as being about the same age as his sister Fanny, who was between fourteen and fifteen.

Virginie was a child of ten.
Ernest was about his own age, while Jules came between the two younger girls.
"Take M.Sandwith to the abbe," the marquis said to Ernest, "and do all in your power to set him at his ease.

Remember what you would feel if you were placed, as he is, among strange people in a strange country." The lad motioned to Harry to accompany him, and the three boys left the room together.
"You can go to your gouvernante," the marquise said to the two younger girls; and with a profound curtsy to her and another to the marquis, they left the room.