She liked her young friend just as he was; she humored him, flattered him, laughed at him, caressed him--did everything but advise him.

It was a flirtation without the benefits of a flirtation.

She was too old to let him fall in love with her, which might have done him good; and her inclination was to keep him young, so that the nonsense he talked might never transgress a certain line.

It was quite conceivable that poor Cecilia should relish a pastime; but if one had philanthropically embraced the idea that something considerable might be made of Roderick, it was impossible not to see that her friendship was not what might be called tonic.

So Rowland reflected, in the glow of his new-born sympathy.