"She seemed much pained, and, I thought, mortified."
"Mortified?"
"Yes."
A pause of some moments ensued, when Barclay asked, in a tone of interest,
"Do you think it has prejudiced her against me?"
"It has evidently pained her very much, but I do not think that it has created in her mind any prejudice against you."
"From what do you infer this, Alice?"
"From the fact, that, while we were alone in her chamber, on my going up stairs to put on my bonnet and shawl, she said to me, and her eyes were moist as well as my own, 'Alice, you ought to speak to your brother, and caution him against this free indulgence in wine; it may grow on him, unawares. If he were as near to me as he is to you, I should not feel that my conscience was clear unless I warned him of his danger.'"
"Did she say that, sister?"
"Yes, those were her very words."