‘She is highly flattered by his attention, but I don’t know how deep it may have gone.’ ‘I wish people would let one’s daughters alone!’ exclaimed Mr. Kendal. ‘You will talk to her then, Albinia, and don’t let her think me more harsh than you can help, and come and tell me how she bears it.’ ‘Won’t you speak to her yourself?’ ‘Do you think I must?’ he said, reluctantly; ‘you know so much better how to manage her.’ ‘I think you must do this, dear Edmund,’ she said, between decision and entreaty. ‘She knows that I dislike the man, and may fancy it my doing it she only hears it at second hand. If you speak, there will be no appeal, and besides there are moments when the really nearest should have no go-betweens.’ ‘We were not very near without you,’ he said. ‘If it were Sophy, I should know better what to be about.’ ‘Sophy would not put you in such a fix.’ ‘So I have fancied--’ he paused, smiling, while she waited in eager curiosity, such as made him finish as if ashamed. ‘I have thought our likings much the same. Have you never observed what I mean?’ ‘Oh! I never observe anything. I did not find out Maurice and Winifred till he told me. Who do you think it is? I always thought love would be the making of Sophy. I see she is another being. What is your guess, Mr. Hope?’ Mr. Kendal made a face of astonishment at such an improbable guess, and was driven into exclaiming, ‘How could any one help thinking of O’More?’ ‘Oh! only too delightful!’ cried Albinia. ‘Why didn’t I think of it--but then his way is so free and cousinly with us all.’ ‘There may be nothing in it,’ said Mr. Kendal; ‘and under present circumstances it would hardly be desirable.’ ‘If old Mr. Goldsmith acts as he ought,’ continued Albinia, ‘we should never lose our Sophy--and what a son we should have! he has so exactly the bright temper that she needs.’ ‘Well, well, that is all in the clouds,’ said Mr. Kendal. ‘I wish the present were equally satisfactory.’ ‘Ah, I had better call poor Lucy.’ ‘Come back with her, pray,’ called Mr. Kendal, nervously. Albinia regretted her superfluous gossip when Lucy appeared with eyes so sparkling, and cheeks so flushed, that it was plain that she had been in all the miseries of suspense. Her countenance glowed with feeling, that lifted her beyond her ordinary doll-like prettiness. Albinia’s heart sank with compassion as she held her hand, and her father stood as if struck by something more like the vision or his youth than he had been prepared for; each feeling that something genuine was present, and respecting it accordingly. ‘Lucy,’ said Mr. Kendal, tenderly, ‘I see I need not tell you why I have sent for you. You are very young, my dear, and you must trust us to care for your happiness.’ ‘Yes.’ Lucy looked up wistfully.