"Well," said Lewis, bending eagerly forward; "well, he helped his sister, of course?" "He did no such thing, sir," said Mr. Walter, bringing his hand down on the table; "he did no such thing, sir; but he wrote her a cool, contemptuous, insulting letter, denying her all claim to talent, (she had sent him some specimen articles,) and advising her to seek some unobtrusive employment, (_what_ employment he did not trouble himself to name,) and then ignored her existence; and this, too, when he was squandering money on 'distressed' actresses, etc." "Well?" said Mr. Lewis, inquiringly. "Well, sir, she struggled on bravely and single-handed, with the skeleton Starvation standing by her hearth-stone--she who had never known a wish ungratified during her married life, whose husband's pride in her was only equalled by his love. She has sunk fainting to the floor with hunger, that her children might not go supperless to bed. And now, when the battle is fought and the victory won, _he_ comes in for a share of the spoils. It is 'my sister "Floy,"' and 'tis _his_ 'literary reputation which was the stepping-stone to her celebrity as a writer.' "To show you how much 'his reputation has helped her,' I will just state that, not long since, I was dining at a restaurant near two young men, who were discussing 'Floy.' One says, 'Have you read her book?' 'No,' said the other, with a sneer, 'nor do I want to; it is enough for me that Hyacinth Ellet claims her as a sister; _that_ is enough to damn any woman.' Then," continued Mr. Walter, "there was an English paper, the editor of which, disgusted with Hyacinth's toadyisms, fopperies, and impudence while abroad, took occasion to cut up her book (as he acknowledged) because the writer was said to be Ellet's sister. That is the way _his_ reputation has helped her." "No wonder she is at sword's-point with him," remarked Mr. Lewis. "She is not at sword's-point with him," replied Mr. Walter. "She simply chooses to retain the position her family assigned her when she was poor and obscure. They would not notice her then; she will not accept their notice now." "Where was the old man, her father, all this time?" said Mr. Lewis, "was he alive and in good circumstances?" "Certainly," said Mr. Walter; "and once in awhile he threw her a dollar, just as one would throw a bone to a hungry dog, with a 'begone!'" "By Jove!" exclaimed Mr. Lewis, as he passed out, "what a heartless set." CHAPTER LXXX. Ruth returned from her daily walk to the Post Office, one morning, with a bundle of letters, among which was one from Mr. Walter. Its contents were as follows: "DEAR SISTER RUTH: