“I admit it; at least by those whose gratitude is worth having,” replied he, giving her one of those looks which she felt all over her, in every nerve; “the gratitude of the pure, unworldly, high-toned, tender heart, is very different in nature and quality from any which could count the cost of a favor by pounds and shillings. Our standard of worth is regulated, I suppose, by our favorite possessions, and the minds which value affection and truth the most, will often esteem services springing from these motives far beyond their intrinsic merit. They affix an imaginary importance to such acts, from certain properties which they perceive through the magnifying lens of a loving heart; while the ignorant and coarse-minded, seeing no token of what may be below the rough surface, naturally prefer a polished brilliant, even though it may be paste.” It was Hilary’s turn to be silent now. “It is La Bruyère, I think, who says that the way in which riches and honors are distributed in this world, shows of how little real value they are in the sight of Heaven,” added Captain Hepburn, when they had walked on in silence a short time. “That seems to me too much of a discontented sort of submission for poor people to comfort themselves by,” said Hilary; “we know that riches and honors are great trials and temptations, but they may also be great blessings. Those who have them may view them in the light in which the satirist places them, and so learn to value them less; but I do not think it does for those who have them not to comfort themselves with thinking that they are bestowed because people are wicked. May be, it is their possession which has hardened the heart, or blinded the eyes, and so their owners are subjects for our pity, not our censure. Don’t you think it is safer to view them as trials than as judgments?” “You mean that we should be thankful, not self-complacent, for being poor: grateful, and also fearful, if we are rich,” said he. “Yes, and do not fancy, from what I said, that riches have spoiled Mr. Huyton. Papa thinks very well of him, and I have no doubt his wealth has hitherto proved a blessing to many.” The free and disengaged air with which she spoke would have carried the conviction of her calm feelings regarding the owner of “the Ferns” to any one but a lover, who felt his worldly circumstances formed a painful contrast to the individual in question. After a little pause, Captain Hepburn began again. “You have afforded me a striking example of your own theory, Miss Duncan, by showing that it does not require more than a wish to do right――to be able to confer favors. Your reproof for my discontented allusion to my worldly circumstances is an obligation, the value of which I hope I am not too dull to appreciate.” “A reproof!” said Hilary, with a look of alarm and crimson cheeks; “indeed I am not so presumptuous; I did not mean it.”