“Hush, Lilias,” said Mossgray; “shall I have to train you to more philosophical modes of thinking? I did not think you were so heterodox. We must bring Reid and Brown and Dugald Stewart down upon you. Halbert himself has some metaphysics, dogmatical as their parent, Monikie. We shall have a regular breaking of spears, Lilias; though I think your friend Helen and you, on behalf of the poets, might rout the philosophers if you looked well to your weapons. By the by, I like that friend of yours--you suit each other well; and how does it fare with Mr Oswald’s resolution? Has he learned to break it yet with a good grace?” “I do not hear now, since Hope is not at home to keep me informed,” said Lilias; “but I think he must be melting; only his son is absent, and there is no visible progress. Mr Oswald is an obstinate man, and Helen is proud; I see that there is an evident consciousness both on her side and his; but, Mossgray, you have done William Oswald harm; you have given him a rival.” “I, Lilias?” said the old man; “is it Halbert? I should regret that.” “No, it is not Halbert,” said Lilias; “I think Halbert is not eligible at present to be any one’s rival at Fendie: it is Mr Insches, Mossgray. I think your kindness to Helen when they were all with us has encouraged Mr Insches to look over her low degree. It is your fault: if you had not noticed her, he would have given up what incipient admiration he had of poor Helen; but you gave him the countenance he needed.” “You are severe, Lilias,” said Mossgray; “but I like the lad. He has a young man’s natural weakness on some points, but there is good stuff in him; and who is to be successful--our grave friend William, or his handsome rival? I should think there was some danger. I fancy I must come to the rescue myself, and explain to Mr Oswald, by my own experience, that resolutions were made to be broken. Does that suit Hope’s tactics and yours, Lilias, or are you working more artfully?” “Hope is my captain; I must wait for further orders,” said Lilias, smiling; “but, Mossgray, this has nothing to do with Halbert.” “Very true,” said the old man. “I see you can hold to your original premises, Lilias; well, then, what of Halbert?--let us return to our disputation.” “I think, Mossgray,” said Lilias, gravely, “since you suffer me to think on the subject, that it would be far better for Halbert if you made your decision soon.” “It is very sensible,” said Mossgray, looking at her with his gracious smile. “I acknowledge that if I did not suffer you to think on the subject--which I fear would be difficult to do--I should lose a good counsellor; but do you know, Lilias, Mrs Mense tells me that matters might be so arranged as to make your inheritance and Halbert’s one;--could that be accomplished, think you?” It was very evident that Mossgray did not think it could, and the supposition was too harmless to call more than a passing shadow of colour over the pale cheek of his ward.