forgetting all of the past which had been unpleasant, and
thinking only that he was blessed above his fellow mortals that he could
call the beautiful girl before him his Ethelyn--his wife.

CHAPTER X

FIRST DAYS IN OLNEY

There were a great many vacant seats in the Methodist church the morning
following Ethelyn's arrival, while Mr. Townsend was surprised at the
size of his congregation. It was generally known that Mrs. Judge Markham
was an Episcopalian, and as she would of course patronize the Village
Hall, the young people of Olney were there en masse, eager to see the
new bride. But their curiosity was not gratified. Ethelyn was too tired
to go out, Andy said, when questioned on the subject, while Eunice
Plympton, who was also of Andy's faith, and an attendant of the Village
Hall, added the very valuable piece of information that "Miss Markham's
breakfast had been taken to her, and that when she [Eunice] came away
she was still in bed, or at all events had not yet made her appearance
below." This, together with Eunice's assertion that she was handsome,
and Tim Jones' testimony that she was "mighty stuck-up, but awful neat,"
was all the disappointed Olneyites knew of Mrs. Richard Markham, who, as
Eunice reported, had breakfasted in bed, and was still lying there when
the one bell in Olney rang out its summons for church. She did not
pretend to be sick--only tired and languid, and indisposed for any
exertion; and then it was much nicer taking her breakfast from the
little tray covered with the snowy towel which Richard brought her, than
it was to go down stairs and encounter "all those dreadful people," as
she mentally styled Richard's family; so she begged for indulgence this
once, and Richard could not refuse her request, and so excused her to
his mother, who said nothing, but whose face wore an expression which
Richard did not like.

Always strong and healthy herself, Mrs. Markham had but little charity
for nervous, delicate people, and she devoutly hoped that Richard's wife
would not prove to be one of that sort. When the dishes were washed, and
the floor swept, and the broom hung up in its place, and the sleeves of
the brown, dotted calico rolled down, she went herself to see Ethelyn,
her quick eye noticing the elaborate night-gown, with its dainty tucks
and expensive embroidery, and her thoughts at once leaping forward to
ironing day, with the wonder who was to do up such finery. "Of course,
though, she'll