My Master’s Stster. 167
debts. But my poor sister! She bore up stoutly
at first, spoke of my father in a way that shocked
and distressed us, and declared that she was glad
he was gone, and that she could now have her way.
Poor girl! my father was right when he said that
that man was unworthy of her love. He drew
back—he threw her over in her hour of trouble,
saying that he could not ally himself with a dis-
graced family.”

“ Served her right,” thought I to myself, wonder-
ing at the pity my master felt for her. He went
on—

“Humoured and petted all her life, she was ill
prepared for such a shock. At first she would not
believe it, but when the truth became only too plain
to her, the revulsion of her feclings was terrible.
She called herself all manner of hard names; she
accused herself of being my father’s destroyer, his
evil genius; she hated, with an absolute loathing,
the name of the man for whose sake she had
quarrelled with my father ; she hated herself, poor
girl! and would by no means hear of comfort or
relief. She shut herself up in her room, doing
nothing, reading nothing ; and if we attempted to
turn her thoughts by talking to her, she had but one
answer, ‘I have driven him away.’ I strove to
rouse her by telling her how much my mother