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?"




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