Ethelyn's Mistake

"Let's go together somewhere and build a house," Melinda said. "You know

Ethie's taste. You can fashion it as you think she would like it, and

meantime we will live with you and see to you a little. You need some

looking after," and Melinda laid her hand half pityingly upon the bowed

head of her brother-in-law, who, but for her strong, upholding

influence, and Andy's cheering faith, would have sunk ere this into

hopeless despondency.

Melinda was a fine specimen of true womanhood. She had met many highly

cultivated people at Des Moines and other towns, where, as the

governor's sister-in-law, she had spent more or less of the last two

years, and as nothing ever escaped her notice, she had improved

wonderfully, until even Mrs. Van Buren, of Boston, would have been proud

of her acquaintance. She had known sorrow, too; for in the cemetery at

Des Moines she had left her little blue-eyed baby boy when only six

months old, and her mother's heart had ached to its very core, until

there came another child, a little girl, this time, whom they had

christened "Ethelyn Grant," and who, on this account, was quite as dear

to Richard as to either of its parents. Richard was happier with that

little brown-haired girl than with anyone else, and when Melinda

suggested they should go together somewhere, he assented readily,

mentioning Davenport as a place where Ethelyn had many times said she

would like to live. Now, as ever, Melinda's was the active, ruling

voice, and almost before Richard knew it, he was in Davenport and

bargaining for a vacant lot which overlooked the river and much of the

country beyond. Davenport suited them all, and by September, Melinda,

who had spent the summer with her mother, was located at a hotel and

making herself very useful to Richard with her suggestions with regard

to the palatial mansion he was building.

There was nothing in Davenport like the "governor's house," and the

people watched it curiously as it went rapidly up. There was a suite of

rooms which they called Ethelyn's, and to the arrangement and adorning

of these Richard gave his whole attention, sparing nothing which could

make them beautiful and attractive, and lavishing so much expense upon

them that strangers came to inspect and comment upon them, wondering why

he took so much pains, and guessing, as people will, that he was

contemplating a second marriage as soon as a divorce could be obtained

from his runaway wife.

The house was finished at last, and Richard took possession, installing

Melinda as housekeeper, and feeling how happy he should be if only Ethie

were there. Somehow he expected her now. Andy's prayers would certainly

be answered even if his own were not, for he, too, had begun to pray,

feeling, at times, that God was slow to hear, as weeks and weeks went by

and still Ethie did not come. "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick," and

the weary waiting told upon his bodily health, which began to fail so

rapidly that people said "Governor Markham was going into a decline,"

and the physicians urged a change of air, and Mr. Townsend, who came in

May for a day at Davenport, recommended him strongly to try what Clifton

Springs, in Western New York, could do for him--the Clifton, whose

healing waters and wonderful power to cure were famed from the shores of

the Atlantic to the Californian hills.