here's a great deal of good about that man, after all," she said to
her sister, when, after he was gone to his room, they sat together
around their hearth and talked the matter over afresh; and then, as she
took off and carefully smoothed her little round puffs of false hair,
and adjusted her nightcap in its place, she said, timidly, "You were
rather hard on him, Sophia, at times."

It needed but this for Mrs. Van Buren to explode again and charge her
sister with saying too little rather than too much. "One would think you
blamed Ethie entirely, or at least that you were indifferent to her
happiness," she said, removing her lace barb, and unfastening the heavy
switch bound about her head. "I was surprised at you, Barbara, I must
say. After all your pretended affection for Ethelyn, I did expect you
would be willing to do as much as to speak for her, at least."

This was too much for poor Aunt Barbara, and without any attempt at
justification, except that her sister in her attack upon Richard had
left her nothing to say, she cried quietly and sorrowfully, as she
folded up her white apron and made other necessary preparations for the
night. That she should be accused of not caring for Ethie, of not
speaking for her, wounded her in a tender point; and long after Mrs. Van
Buren had gone to the front chamber, where she always slept, Aunt
Barbara was on her knees by the rocking chair, praying earnestly for
Ethie, and then still kneeling there, with her face on the cushion,
sobbing softly, "God knows how much I love her. There's nothing of
personal comfort I would not sacrifice to bring her back; but when a man
was feeling as bad as he could, what was the use of making him
feel worse?"

CHAPTER XXVI

WATCHING AND WAITING

The pink and white blossoms of the apple trees by the pump in Aunt
Barbara's back yard were dropping their snowy petals upon the clean,
bright grass, and the frogs in the meadows were croaking their sad
music, when Richard Markham came again to Chicopee. He had started for
home the morning after his memorable interview with Mrs. Dr. Van Buren,
and to Aunt Barbara had fallen the task of telling her troubles to the
colonel's family, asking that the affair be kept as quiet as possible,
inasmuch as Ethie might soon be found, and matters between her and
Richard be made right. Every day, after the mail came from the West, the
colonel rang at Aunt Barbara's door and asked solemnly, "if there was
any news"--