had made use of underhand arts to supplant
him. But Mr. Vigors was convinced, from other sources of information
(meaning, I presume, the oracular prescience of his clairvoyants), that
the time would come when the poor young lady would herself insist on
discarding Dr. Fenwick, and when "that person" would appear in a very
different light to many who now so fondly admired and so reverentially
trusted him. When that time arrived, he, Mr. Vigors, might again be of
use; but, meanwhile, though he declined to renew his intimacy at Abbots'
House, or to pay unavailing visits of mere ceremony, his interest in
the daughter of his old friend remained undiminished, nay, was rather
increased by compassion; that he should silently keep his eye upon
her; and whenever anything to her advantage suggested itself to him,
he should not be deterred by the slight with which Mrs. Ashleigh
had treated his judgment from calling on her, and placing before her
conscience as a mother his ideas for her child's benefit, leaving to
herself then, as now, the entire responsibility of rejecting the advice
which he might say, without vanity, was deemed of some value by those
who could distinguish between sterling qualities and specious pretences.

Mrs. Ashleigh's was that thoroughly womanly nature which instinctively
leans upon others. She was diffident, trustful, meek, affectionate. Not
quite justly had Mrs. Poyntz described her as "commonplace weak," for
though she might be called weak, it was not because she was commonplace;
she had a goodness of heart, a sweetness of disposition, to which
that disparaging definition could not apply. She could only be called
commonplace inasmuch as in the ordinary daily affairs of life she had a
great deal of ordinary daily commonplace good-sense. Give her a routine
to follow, and no routine could be better adhered to. In the allotted
sphere of a woman's duties she never seemed in fault. No household, not
even Mrs. Poyntz's, was more happily managed. The old Abbots' House had
merged its original antique gloom in the softer character of pleasing
repose. All her servants adored Mrs. Ashleigh; all found it a pleasure
to please her; her establishment had the harmony of clockwork; comfort
diffused itself round her like quiet sunshine round a sheltered spot.
To gaze on her pleasing countenance, to listen to the simple talk that
lapsed from her guileless lips, in even, slow, and lulling murmur, was
in itself a respite from "e