‘No,’ pursued Miss Wynter, apparently unheeding Eleanor’s last remark; ‘study him and his character at your ease, by yourself, and don’t worry yourself about it. As for his habits—now, this advice really comes from my heart, Miss Askam,’ and Magdalen laid down her work and looked with cold earnestness at her companion—‘if he were younger than you, or in any way in your keeping or under your control, it would clearly be your duty to become acquainted with his incomings and outgoings, and to supervise his proceedings. But just the reverse is the case. He is older than you by several years; he is his own master, and has been so for many years, accustomed to consult himself alone—you little know how much himself alone—in the management of his own affairs. He knows his own aims and wishes, if he has any. Let me advise you, if you wish to have a shadow of influence over him, never to interfere, by word, look, or deed, with anything that he may choose to do. I do not say that by this course you will gain an influence over him, but I say that if you do not observe it, you will lose every chance of ever gaining one. He will not brook the least appearance of meddling——’ ‘But, indeed, I do not want——’ began Eleanor, astounded at the revelation her ruse had called forth—amazed at the depths of angry feeling which she saw quickly enough were surging under that composed exterior called Magdalen Wynter. But Magdalen had begun her exhortation, and was not to be easily stopped. In the same cold but energetic style she went on— ‘If you once let him see that you think his affairs are anything to you, your chance is gone.’ ‘My chance—of what?’ thought Eleanor, looking, as she now felt, very grave. Magdalen saw this gravity. Her thought was, ‘Silly, sentimental creature! The idea of coming rushing in with a mission or a vocation to improve her brother! Some women never will learn.’ Then, after a moment’s pause, she continued— ‘Men are odd, you know. If they do wrong, yes, even if they wrong you—if they do something flagrantly unjust, and you reproach them, or scold them, or try to make them see how bad they have been, what good does it do? It does not make them sorry or ashamed, but it makes them think you very disagreeable; it makes them angry with you for dictating to them; it makes them cease to have any wish to please you, or any regard for you. Let him alone, unless you wish to make mischief. You understand me, I daresay?’ ‘I’m afraid I understand that my brother’s habits are not what they should be.’ ‘That is a very hasty conclusion, and shows that you certainly have not understood me. If I must speak so very plainly——’