Encouraged by this favorable reception, the Squire soon repeated his
visit, and by adroitly flattering the elder lady, he continued to
ingratiate himself into her favor. Mrs. Wildegrave was a kind
well-meaning woman, but she had struggled so long with poverty, that
wealth had acquired, as a natural consequence, too great an ascendancy
over her mind. The possession of these coveted riches gave to Mark
Hurdlestone an importance in her eyes, which made her blind to the
defects of his character, and she secretly wished that her daughter had
not entered into a rash engagement with his brother, which must
unavoidably extend over an indefinite number of years, but could
transfer her affections to the handsome owner of Oak Hall. Alas! how
often are mothers, and fond mothers too, induced to sacrifice the
earthly and eternal peace of a beloved child to the demon of this world,
the selfish soul-destroying power of wealth, that daily slays its
thousands and tens of thousands, yet never finds one worshipper the
less.

About this period, Mr. Hurdlestone purchased the cottage rented by the
widow, and appeared in a new character, that of a landlord. The old lady
was fond of planning improvements, which gave him an opportunity of
gratifying her taste; and he took no small pains in accommodating
himself to her wishes. "He was a fine generous man," she said, "one whom
the world has greatly misrepresented. All his father's faults have been
heaped upon his innocent head. She had had sore reason to hate the
illiberal narrow-minded father, but she admired and esteemed the son."

"I do not think that Algernon did his brother justice," said Elinor;
"but members of the same family are often blind to each other's merits.
Certainly the Squire is not the bad selfish man I took him for."