As to Gwyneth, ever since their first interview, she had given him credit for every virtue under the sun, and invariably believed him to be perfectly right, let who would differ from or disagree with him. She was the confidante, consequently, of all his theories for the improvement of his people, of all his wishes that they were very different from what they were, and of all his doubts of ever making them any better. His theories certainly were beautiful: it was unfortunate that they should be based on the most ideal foundations, and so be generally impracticable. It was unfortunate, too, that those changes which he did introduce did not work well. For instance, as I said before, his attempt to re-model the school ended in the secession of the schoolmistress; but as his plans were never sufficiently fixed to be acted on, the new schoolmaster fell into his own ways, and the routine became rather more inefficient than before, while Mr. Ufford, in disgust, pretty well ceased to visit it. And so it was in every thing else; things did not suit his fancy, were imperfect, or inappropriate; he made violent changes, was opposed, was determined, carried his point, made enemies, gradually grew indifferent, and gave up his object, contenting himself with strolling about the Vicarage garden, detailing impracticable schemes to Gwyneth, and drawing imaginary pictures of what might be. He was one of those people who never have time for any thing, and who, from want of _reality_, do nothing in the end, although avowedly always busy. What could be effected by others in his plans, was well done; what depended on himself alone, was well talked of. Yet he was a great favorite with many, especially with recent acquaintance, and his friends always formed the highest estimate of his powers, and the liveliest expectations of their results. Hilary was most anxious to think well of him. She discovered in time that he was expecting to succeed her father in the living; and this created a strong source of interest in him, and a most ardent wish that he should prove all that he was supposed to be. She shut her eyes to his deficiencies, excused any mistakes or neglects, labored to supply the care and zeal which were occasionally wanting, and to reconcile all apparent inconsistencies or short-comings. She had often hard work, and did sometimes feel as if she were endeavoring to make ropes of sand, although she laid all the blame of failure on her own mal-adroitness and ignorance.