My Master’s Sister. 171

 

gathered about us, pleased at the prospect of an
exciting scene, but Rinaldi flew to my rescue—I
know not whence his eloquence came, for in his
cooler moments he could hardly yet express him-
self in English—he restrained and dispersed the
mob, enabling me to lead home my unfortunate
sister. From that day Rinaldi and I were as
brothers. This strange fancy of my sister’s made
my mother so unhappy, that I was forced to forbid
her going out again. I had for some time been
gaining more influence over her than anyone else
possessed, and she obeyed me; but I know not
whether, had it been possible, it would not have
been better to humour her even in this. She fell
into a settled melancholy, saying that since I for-
bade her going out, she would obey, but I had
taken away her only chance : she had offended God,
and He was angry with her; and this open penance
had been her one, her last hope of reconciliation.
I told her, I fetched the clergyman to tell her, of
the pitiful and tender loving-kindness of God: we
might as well have talked to the chair she sat in.
We did not know all she had done, she said; she
alone knew ; and she knew that there was no hope
left. Occasionally there came outbursts of violence,
always against herself, never against others ; and it
was in rising one cold night to soothe her during one