“That you should really and honestly try to conquer your unfortunate predilection for my brother. Surely there is no virtue in obstinate constancy; the passion denominated love, has no such merit in itself, that it should be clung to at the expense of all other good qualities; that candor, and filial affection, and self-denial, and self-control, are all to be sacrificed to it. What is it, after all, but often a merely selfish inclination, a determined perseverance in our own way, this constancy which is so much praised and extolled? And as to making one happy, what can be a greater delusion! It seems to me that persisting in an unfortunate attachment, is very like persisting in entertaining some wearing illness, which makes you uncomfortable in yourself, and uneasy to those around you.” “But, Hilary, one can not help these things; love may be a disease, but it is an incurable one――at least, in cases where the infection is really taken.” “I do not believe that, Dora. We are not sent into this world to be the sport of our passions; and I am convinced that our natural affections need no more be fatal to us, than our necessary acts, such as eating and drinking. We may, by mismanagement, bring our bodies or our minds into such a state, that the things which should conduce to our health and happiness, may produce fatal consequences; but then who is to blame? Consider the end and object of this life; to prepare for a better, a peaceful, blissful state, where darkness, doubt, and distress can not come; where tears shall disappear forever: and can you suppose that we are necessary victims to deplorable passions which must so entirely interfere with this great object? that love, which is intended to assist us onward, can of its own nature be ungovernable and incurable? Oh, no; we may learn to command every passion, even the strongest, if we seek aright.” “You are just talking enigmas to me; you know very well I never learned any thing about self-control; and Maurice loves me as I am. I shall go and take the first opportunity of telling Mr. Ufford I love another; for I never could bear to be step-mother to a girl of twelve years old. It is too absurd of papa to expect it at all.” She quitted the room, leaving Hilary to meditate at leisure on what had passed; to grieve over the mutual infatuation of her brother and her friend, and to comfort herself that at least Dora’s pettish injustice would not last, for she could not bear to quarrel with her. CHAPTER XVI. “Her moods, good lack! they pass like show’rs. But yesternight, and she would be As pale and still as wither’d flow’rs; And now to-night she laughs and speaks, And has a color in her cheeks――――” ISEULT.