girl as unsophisticated as Elinor Wildegrave, who was a perfect novice
in the ways of the world. She could not believe it possible that Mr.
Hurdlestone could stoop from his dignity to act a despicable part; that
deception could lurk beneath such a grave demeanor. Elinor was not the
first human being whose faith has been built on reeds.

When alone with Miss Wildegrave, Mark never failed to make his brother
the theme of conversation. He lamented, most feelingly, the unfortunate
difference which existed between them, which appeared the more
unnatural, considering that they were twins. He laid the fault of their
disunion entirely to their parents--his father adopting him as a pet,
and his mother lavishing all her affections upon Algernon.

This partiality, he said, had destroyed all confidence between them, and
produced a rivalry and misunderstanding of each other's character from
their earliest years, substituting envy for generous emulation, and
hatred for love. In all their quarrels, whether right or wrong, his
mother defended Algernon, and his father sided with him so that
well-doing was never rewarded, and ill-doing never met with an adequate
punishment. Was it to be wondered at that they had grown up perfectly
indifferent to each other?

There was much truth in this statement; but Mark Hurdlestone made the
best of it, in order to justify himself.

As they became more intimate, Elinor ventured to inquire why his father
had been induced to act so unjustly to Algernon on his death-bed; that
she could hardly believe that Algernon's attachment to her could have
drawn down upon him such a heavy punishment.