Ethelyn's Mistake

She was going to Olney, of course--going to see his folks, the landlady

said, when she heard Mrs. Markham had gone; and so no wonder was created

among the female boarders, except that Ethelyn had not said good-by to a

single one of them. She was not equal to that. Her great desire was to

escape unseen, and with a veil drawn closely over her face, she sat in

the darkest corner of the ladies' room, waiting impatiently for the

arrival of the train, and glancing furtively at the people around her.

Groups of men were walking up and down upon the platform without, and

among them Frank Van Buren. On his way to the cars he had called again

at the Stafford House, and learned that Mrs. Markham was out.

"I'll see her when I return," he thought, and so went his way to the

train, which would take him to his next point of destination.

Never once dreaming how near he was to her, Ethie drew her veil and furs

more closely around her, and turning her face to the frosty window,

gazed drearily out into the wintry darkness as they sped swiftly on. She

hardly knew where she was going or what she could do when she was there.

She was conscious only of the fact that she was breaking away from

scenes and associations which had been so distasteful to her--that she

was leaving a husband who had been abusive to her, and she verily

believed she had just cause for going. The world might not see it so,

perhaps, but she did not care for the world. She was striking out a path

of her own, and with her heart as sore and full of anger as it then was,

she felt able to cope with any difficulty, so that her freedom was

achieved. They were skirting across the prairie now; and the lights of

Olney were in sight. Perhaps she could see the farmhouse, and rubbing,

with her warm palm, the moisture from the window-pane, she looked

wistfully out in the direction of Richard's home. Yes, there it was, and

a light shining from the sitting-room window, as if they expected her.

But Ethie was not going there, and with something like a sigh as she

thought of Andy so near, yet separated so widely from her, she turned

from the window and rested her tired head upon her hands while they

stayed at Olney. It was only a moment they stopped, but to Ethie it

seemed an age, and her heart almost stopped its beating when she heard

the voice of Terrible Tim just outside the car. He was not coming in, as

she found after a moment of breathless waiting; he was only speaking to

an acquaintance, who stepped inside and took a seat by the stove, just

as the train plunged again into the darkness, leaving behind a fiery

track to mark its progress across the level prairie.