in the old man's own hand-writing; and his sister, whom he looked upon
but as little better than a head main-servant, had not only an equal
right to all the property, but was equally mistress of the house, the
money at the bank, the wine in the cellar, and the very horses in the
stable.

This was a hard blow; but Barry was obliged to bear it. At first, he
showed his ill-humour plainly enough in his treatment of his sister;
but he soon saw that this was folly, and that, though her quiet
disposition prevented her from resenting it, such conduct would drive
her to marry some needy man. Then he began, with an ill grace, to try
what coaxing would do. He kept, however, a sharp watch on all her
actions; and on once hearing that, in his absence, the two Kelly girls
from the hotel had been seen walking with her, he gave her a long
lecture on what was due to her own dignity, and the memory of her
departed parents.

He made many overtures to her as to the division of the property; but,
easy and humble as Anty was, she was careful enough to put her name to
nothing that could injure her rights. They had divided the money at the
banker's, and she had once rather startled Barry by asking him for his
moiety towards paying the butcher's bill; and his dismay was completed
shortly afterwards by being informed, by a steady old gentleman
in Dunmore, whom he did not like a bit too well, that he had been
appointed by Miss Lynch to manage her business and receive her rents.

As soon as it could be decently done, after his father's burial, Barry
took himself off to Dublin, to consult his friends there as to what he
should do; but he soon returned, determined to put a bold face on it,
and come to some understanding with his sister.