“Not much. I do not think he is _real_. He should talk less, and act more. He may be half in love himself with Gwyneth; but it is in that aimless, purposeless way, which will never grow to any good end. He likes to keep her to himself; he likes to talk to her; but while he can amuse himself as he does, enjoying her admiration and devotion, and feeling sure of her preference, he will not ever care to exert himself for more.” “But what can I do?” said Hilary, distressed. “Now a clever, active, manœuvering mother might fix him directly. Any one, in fact, who would condescend to use the requisite arts and exertions. There is a tact in managing these affairs, which few girls possess. They are sincere, ardent, yet shy, modest, undemonstrative; they can do nothing but waste their own affections. It never succeeds with a character like Mr. Ufford’s, compounded of much good, alloyed by selfish and self-indulgent vanity.” “But, Captain Hepburn, would you have me manœuver to secure a wavering heart for my sister? I can not stoop to that.” “No, Hilary, I would not have you different from what you are: but I wish Mr. Ufford went further off. I have no confidence in him. It is a pity that you admitted him to such constant intercourse.” “I am very sorry,” said she, humbly: “it was my imprudence. I did not know better. I am so ignorant; but perhaps you do not understand Gwyneth aright. She is enthusiastic and ardent in her fancies, but they do not always endure. What could I do now to prevent an intercourse which has grown up so naturally out of our relative situations?” “That is exactly the question that I have asked myself again and again, without seeming to be at all nearer finding an answer. I am afraid it is one of those imprudences which are irretrievable: which, in fact, are only proved to be so by the result. You know there are steps which once taken, can not be retraced, and actions of which we can not choose but bear the consequences. This is poor comfort for you, dear Hilary; but do not distress yourself so, my love; perhaps the effects on Gwyneth may not be evil. I may have imputed too much to her.” “She is so young,” said Hilary; “oh, I hope I have not helped to make her unhappy.” “Yes, she is very young; young enough to recover from an infatuation of the kind, should she find her idol is only made of clay, and to be better and wiser for the experiment.” “I do believe her admiration is the result of religious feeling; she would think little of him if he were not our clergyman. It was that attracted her.” “These two feelings are constantly acting and reacting on each other, in rather a confusing way in women. Personal regard for the minister is either the origin or the result of attention to his doctrines; and one is constantly increased by the other.” “It seems so natural, so unavoidable, to care for one who teaches us our highest duties; instructs us in our dearest interests,” interposed she, apologetically.