William Dalzell looked at the girl he had fancied himself in love with for the last few months, and felt that his love had not been of a very deep or absorbing character.  If the two girls had been equal favourites of their uncle’s, his choice would have fallen on Elsie, who was prettier, more elegant, more yielding, and, as he thought, more affectionate.  Her impulsive and confiding manner, her little enthusiasms, her blunders, were to him more charming than Jane’s steady good sense and calm temper.  Jane never wanted advice or assistance; she was too independent in mind, and too robust in body, to care much about little attentions, though she had become accustomed to his in the course of time, and as there was no other person to compare him with, had allowed herself to think a good deal of him.  Mr. Hogarth had always shown so marked a preference for Jane, and had so often expressed displeasure and impatience at Elsie’s deficiencies; his property, not being entailed, was entirely at his own disposal, so that it was probable that Jane would be left the larger share of it, while if he made love to Alice it was quite possible that she would be disinherited altogether, for he knew that he was not a favourite with the old gentleman.  He did not think that anything could shake Mr. Hogarth’s confidence in Jane, and he had been very careful in feeling his ground sure before he made a formal proposal.  He had tried to persuade himself that Jane’s face was charming, though not regularly handsome; so it was to some people, but he had not eyes to see the charm.  Her figure was undeniably fine, her temper good, her principles to be depended on.  Her education had been peculiar, and singularly secular—­his mother had felt a little shocked at her want of religion—­but then Mr. Hogarth was very odd, and when she was married she would see things differently; and on the whole Mrs. Dalzell felt that her handsome son had chosen with great prudence and good sense in fixing his affections upon the elder and the favorite niece.  His small property was heavily encumbered, and such a marriage would make him hold up his head again in the country.  Mrs. Dalzell’s attentions to Jane had been nearly as assiduous as her son’s, and to the motherless girl they were quite as welcome; and she had shown so much affection for Alice, too, that both sisters had been very much captivated with her.

William Dalzell felt Jane’s kindly-meant speech as a sort of reproach.  He would have preferred to make a speech himself, and to have seen her more agitated.  Though he had never thought himself very much in love, he believed he had inspired a strong love, and that it would be very hard for Jane to give him up.  But things were completely taken out of his hands; she did not even now, in the first pain of parting, dream of breaking her heart.  She was his superior, painfully his superior, and he did not like it.

“You are quite right, Miss Melville,” said he; “what you say is quite true.  I am involved and embarrassed, and could not offer you anything worth having.”