Cynthia Lennox was, in fact, quite another woman to the young girl from what she had been to the child.
In truth, she cared not one whit for Ellen, but she was possessed with a stern desire of atonement, and far stronger than her love was the appreciation of what that mother opposite must have suffered during that day and night when she had forcibly kept her treasure.
The agony of that she could present to her consciousness very vividly, but she could not awaken the old love which had been the baby's for this young girl.

Cynthia felt much more affection for Fanny than for Ellen.

When she had unfolded her plan for sending Ellen to college, and Fanny had almost gone hysterical with delight, she found it almost impossible to keep her tears back.

She knew so acutely how this other woman felt that she almost seemed to lose her own individuality.

She began to be filled with a vicarious adoration of Ellen, which was, however, dissipated the moment she actually saw her.