Their uncle Sir John Jefferay was a famous London lawyer, and he bid fair to occupy a great position on the judicial bench.
At this time he was the Treasurer of Gray's Inn, and on the occasion of a grand masque, given in the fine hall of the Inn by the Fellows, his two nephews had taken the parts of Castor and Pollux. The young King had honoured the performance with his royal presence, and so struck was he with the wonderful resemblance of the two Sussex brothers that he ordered them to Court and spent much time in their company.
In fact this resemblance was very remarkable. Those who knew the boys best could hardly tell them apart, and to avoid the continual mistakes which would otherwise have occurred, William always wore a grey cap and his brother a blue one.
The fondest affection subsisted between them; they were rarely seen apart; the one was the complement of the other, and their father, William Jefferay, would often declare that "they possessed two bodies, but only one soul!"
Just now they were released from their attendance at Court, but they would have to return thither shortly, for the sickly young King found a solace in their company.
There was one point upon which the boys were pre-eminently in agreement—they both adored their sister Sue, and her slightest wish was law to them.
And well did the fair Susan deserve this devotion. Three short years before, the boys had become motherless, and Susan, as the eldest member of the family, at once assumed the domestic control of Chiddingly Place. The comfort, the happiness, the welfare of the boys became her chief object in life.
She even shared in their sports—as far as a girl could,—and to her every secret of their hearts was laid bare; she was their "dea patrona," and for her both William and Ralph would have gladly laid down their lives at any time or place.
In person Susan was a feminine replica of the twins. She possessed their fair complexion and laughing blue eyes—her hair hung, like theirs, in thick masses over her shoulders.
Though slenderly built she was tall, and her figure displayed the nameless grace of a well-born English girl.