She was keenly sensible of her sisters’ defects; she felt them with an acuteness and a self-condemnation almost morbid in its excess; it seemed to her as if they were entirely her own fault, and she saw that, however she might guard their health, minister to their comfort, and promote their pleasures, she was still failing in the more important part of her stepmother’s charge, while these evils were allowed to increase and overshadow their characters. Yet she could do nothing to repress them by herself, and she was not seconded by her father. Not that he wished or intended to thwart her; he doted on her far too much for that; but he was quite ignorant of the best manner of training children, or of the importance due to the small points of which Hilary thought so much. He secretly attributed the stress she laid on such things to the over-anxiety of a new-made governess, precise about unnecessary particulars from the scruples of a young responsibility; and when Hilary had said as much as duty and respect permitted, and urged her opinions with the small degree of earnestness which diffidence and humility allowed her, he would reply with a kind smile and a kiss, “Very true, my love; you are a good girl to think so much about your sisters, and I hope they will be grateful. I do not know what I should do without you.” But the things to which she objected, the indulgences which she reprehended, were continued just the same. Theoretically, he would tell the children to obey Hilary; practically, he would encourage the contrary conduct. Not that there was any positive rebellion――there was no passion, ill-will, or disobedience apparent; these would have been instantly suppressed; but these were not necessary to gain her ends, Sybil found, and her nature was too soft to use them. So when she and Hilary differed about her occupations, her manner of employing her time, or her amusements, an appeal to her father, a smile and a kiss, always won him to her side of the argument, and gained for her the right of following her own taste, rather than submitting to the act of self-denial which her sister had proposed. Mr. Duncan only saw that both acts were alike innocent, why then should she not take her choice? Hilary saw further; for she not only reflected on the results of self-indulgence, but she felt keenly how her power was annihilated, and her actual authority annulled; all the more keenly because it was owing to an affection she could not bear to blame, even in thought.