was not ignorant, of the misunderstandings
and misery arising from that unfortunate marriage, and she had about
made up her mind to tell her sister just where the fault lay. She would
not spare Frank any longer, but would give him his just deserts. She
never dreamed that the trouble this time concerned Ethie, her own
darling, the child whom she had loved so well, and pitied, and thought
of so much since the time she left her out West with "those
Philistines," as she designated Richard's family. She had not heard from
her for some time, but, in the last letter received, Ethie had written
in a very cheerful strain, and told how gay and pleasant it was in
Camden that winter. Surely nothing had befallen her, and the good woman
stood aghast when Mrs. Dr. Van Buren abruptly asked if Ethelyn was not
there, or had been there lately, or heard from either. What did it
portend? Had harm come upon Ethie? And a shadow broke the placid surface
of the sweet old face as Aunt Barbara put these questions, first to
herself, and then to Mrs. Van Buren, who rapidly explained that Ethelyn
had left her husband, and gone, no one knew whither.

"I hoped she might be here, and came up to see," Mrs. Van Buren
concluded; while Aunt Barbara steadied herself against the great
bookcase in the corner, and wondered if she was going out of her senses,
or had she heard aright, and was it her sister Van Buren sitting there
before her, and saying such dreadful things.

She could not tell if it were real until Tabby sprang with a purring,
caressing sound, upon her shoulder, and rubbed her soft sides against
her cap. That made it real, and brought the color back to her wrinkled
face, but brought, also, a look of horror into her blue eyes, which
sought Mrs. Van Buren's with an eager, and yet terribly anxious glance.
Mrs. Dr. Van Buren understood the look. Its semblance had been on her
own face for an instant when she first heard the news, and now she
hastened to dispossess her sister's mind of any such suspicion.

"No, Barbara; Frank did not go with her, or even see her when in Camden.
He is not quite so bad as that, I hope."

The mother nature was in the ascendant, and for a moment resented the
suspicion against her son, even though that suspicion had been in her
own mind when Frank returned from Camden with the news of Ethie's
flight. That he had had something to do with it was her first fear,
until convinced to the contrary; and now she blamed Aunt Barb