arer hope
underlies and supports her action; which hope however springs and
grows, not because she foresees at all how things are to turn, but
merely from a pious trust, which is in her case both natural and just,
that her father's "good receipt" will somehow, "for her legacy, be
sanctified by the luckiest stars in heaven."

The same delicate care for her honour, as if this were indeed sacred
and precious in the Poet's regard, is shown at various other points.
It is very note-worthy how, all along, she shapes her action from step
to step, not by any long-headed planning, but merely as events suggest
and invite her onward. Helena is indeed brave, wise, prudent,
sagacious, quick and clear of perception, swift and steadfast in
resolution, prompt, patient, and persevering in action; but there is
nothing of a crafty or designing mind in what she does. She displays
no special forecast, no subtle or far-sighted scheming; though quick
and apt at seizing and using opportunities, she does not make or even
seek them. So it is in the strange proceedings at Florence, whereby
she manages to fulfil the hard conditions imposed by her husband.
Here, as elsewhere, she has her fine penetrative faculties all
wide-awake, but there is no contriving or forcing of occasions: when
she sees a way open before her, she strikes into it promptly, and
pursues it with quiet yet energetic constancy; and whatever apt
occasions emerge to her view, she throws herself into them at once,
and, with a sort of divine tact, turns them to the best possible
account in furtherance of her cherished hope. In this way the Poet
manages to bring her character off clean and fragrant in our thoughts,
by making us feel that in whatever blame might else attach to her
acts, the circumstances only are responsible, while to her belongs the
credit of using those circumstances purely, wisely, and well.

It is further observable, and a very material point too, that Helena
seems to think the better of Bertram for his behaviour towards her:
she takes it as evidence at least of honesty in him, and of a certain
downrightness of character, that shrinks from a life of appearances,
and knows not how to affect what he does not feel. So far from blaming
his indifference, she rather blames herself as having brought him into
a false position. She loves him simply because she cannot help it; she
wants him to love her for the same reason; and the point she aims at
is so to act and be and a