used to be!

So Dudley Venner felt, and would have thought, if he had let his
thoughts breathe the air of his soul. But the Doctor read through words
and thoughts and all into the father's consciousness. There are states
of mind which may be shared by two persons in presence of each other,
which remain not only unworded, but unthoughted, if such a word may
be coined for our special need. Such a mutually interpenetrative
consciousness there was between the father and the old physician. By a
common impulse, both of them rose in a mechanical way and went to the
western window, where each started, as he saw the other's look directed
towards the white stone which stood in the midst of the small plot of
green turf.

The Doctor had, for a moment, forgotten himself but he looked up at the
clouds, which were angry, and said, as if speaking of the weather, "It
is dark now, but we hope it will clear up by and by. There are a great
many more clouds than rains, and more rains than strokes of lightning,
and more strokes of lightning than there are people killed. We must let
this girl of ours have her way, as far as it is safe. Send away this
woman she hates, quietly. Get her a foreigner for a governess, if you
can,--one that can dance and sing and will teach her. In the house
old Sophy will watch her best. Out of it you must trust her, I am
afraid,--for she will not be followed round, and she is in less danger
than you think. If she wanders at night, find her, if you can; the woods
are not absolutely safe. If she will be friendly with any young people,
have them to see her,--young men especially. She will not love any one
easily, perhaps not at all; yet love would be more like to bring her
right than anything else. If any young person seems in danger of falling
in love with her, send him to me for counsel."

Dry, hard advice, but given from a kind hewn, with a moist eye, and in
tones which tried to be cheerful and were full of sympathy. This advice
was the key to the more than indulgent treatment which, as we have seen,
the girl had received from her father and all about her. The old Doctor
often came in, in the kindest, most natural sort of way, got into
pleasant relations with Elsie by always treating her in the same easy
manner as at the great party, encouraging all her harmless fancies, and
rarely reminding her that he was a professional adviser, except when
she came out of her own accord, as in the talk they had at the party,