They were the only two children of Lord and Lady Luxellian, and, as it proved, had been left at home during their parents' temporary absence, in the custody of nurse and governess.

Lord Luxellian was dotingly fond of the children; rather indifferent towards his wife, since she had begun to show an inclination not to please him by giving him a boy.
All children instinctively ran after Elfride, looking upon her more as an unusually nice large specimen of their own tribe than as a grown-up elder.

It had now become an established rule, that whenever she met them--indoors or out-of-doors, weekdays or Sundays--they were to be severally pressed against her face and bosom for the space of a quarter of a minute, and other-wise made much of on the delightful system of cumulative epithet and caress to which unpractised girls will occasionally abandon themselves.
A look of misgiving by the youngsters towards the door by which they had entered directed attention to a maid-servant appearing from the same quarter, to put an end to this sweet freedom of the poor Honourables Mary and Kate.
'I wish you lived here, Miss Swancourt,' piped one like a melancholy bullfinch.
'So do I,' piped the other like a rather more melancholy bullfinch.
'Mamma can't play with us so nicely as you do.

I don't think she ever learnt playing when she was little.

When shall we come to see you ?' 'As soon as you like, dears.' 'And sleep at your house all night?
That's what I mean by coming to see you.