Ethelyn's Mistake

"It was wrong, all wrong. I did not love him then," she said, "nor

afterward, on the prairie, nor anywhere, until I went away, and found

what it was to live without him."

"And do you love him now?" Richard asked her once when he sat alone with

her.

There was no hesitancy on her part, no waiting to make up an answer. It

was ready on her lips, "Yes, oh, yes!" and the weak arms lifted

themselves up and were wound around his neck with a pressure almost

stifling. How much of this was real Richard could not tell, but he

accepted it as such, and waited impatiently for the day when the full

light of reason should return and Ethie be restored to him. There was

but little of her past life which he did not learn from her ravings, and

so there was less for her to tell him when at last the fever abated, and

his eyes met hers with a knowing, rational expression. Andy was alone

with her when the change first came. The rain, which had fallen so

steadily, was over, and out upon the river the sunlight was softly

falling. At Andy's earnest entreaty, Richard had gone for a little

exercise in the open air, and was walking slowly up and down the broad

piazza, while Aunt Barbara slept, and Andy kept his vigils by Ethelyn.

She, too, was sleeping quietly, and Andy saw the great drops of

perspiration standing upon her brow and beneath her hair. He knew it was

a good omen, and on his knees by the bedside, with his face in his

hands, he prayed aloud, thanking God for restoring Ethelyn to them, and

asking that they might all be taught just how to make her happy. A faint

sound between a moan and a sob roused him and, looking up, he saw the

great tears rolling down Ethie's cheeks, while her lips moved as if they

would speak to him.

"Andy, dear old Andy! is it you, and are you glad to have me back?" she

said, and then all Andy's pent-up feelings found vent in a storm of

tears and passionate protestations of love and tenderness for his

darling sister.

She remembered how she came there, and seemed to understand why Andy was

there, too; but the rest was a little confused. Was Aunt Barbara there,

or had she only dreamed it?

"Aunt Barbara is here," Andy said, and then, with the same frightened,

anxious look her face had so often worn during her illness, Ethie said:

"Somebody else has sat by me and held my head and hands, and kissed me!

Andy, tell me--was that Richard?--and did he kiss me, and is he glad

to find me?"