In blissful ignorance of all that was meditated against her, Ethelyn saw
her piano taken away from the sitting room, where it would never stand
again, and saw the tears which rolled down Aunt Barbara's faded cheeks
as she, too, watched its going, and tried to fill up the vacancy it left
by moving a chair and a table and a footstool into the gap. Those were
hard days for Aunt Barbara, harder than for Ethelyn, who liked the
excitement of traveling, and was almost glad when the crisp October
morning came on which she was to say good-by to the home which was hers
no longer. Her two huge trunks stood in the hall, together with the
square hair trunk which held Richard's wardrobe, and the three tin cans
of peaches Mrs. Captain Markham was sending to her sister-in-law, with
the injunction to be sure and get that particular patent for cans if she
wished her fruit to keep. In addition to these, an immense box had been
forwarded by express, containing, besides Ethelyn's wearing apparel,
many little ornaments and pictures and brackets, which, during the
winter, might perhaps adorn the walls of the parlor where Daisy's
picture hung, and where, Richard had said, was also an oil-painting of
Niagara, omitting to add that it was the handiwork of Melinda Jones,
that young lady having dabbled in paints as well as music during her two
terms schooling at Camden. Tucked away in various parts of the box were
also sundry presents, which, at Mrs. Dr. Van Buren's suggestion, Ethelyn
had bought for her husband's family. For James, who, she had heard
Richard say, was an inveterate smoker, there was a handsome velvet
smoking-cap which, having been bought at Saratoga, had cost an enormous
sum; for John, an expensive pair of elaborately wrought slippers had
been selected; but when it came to Anderson, as Ethelyn persisted in
calling the brother whom Richard always spoke of as Andy, she felt a
little perplexed as to what would be appropriate. Richard had talked
very little of him--so little, in fact, that she knew nothing whatever
of his tastes, except from the scrap of conversation she once
accidentally overheard when the old captain was talking to Richard of
his brothers.
"Does Andy like busts as well as ever?" the captain had asked, but
Richard's reply was lost as Ethelyn walked on.
Still, she had heard enough to give her some inkling with regard to the
mysterious Andy. Probably he was more refined than either James or
John--at all events, he was evidently fond of statuary, and his tastes
should be gratified. Accordingly, Boston was ransacked by Mrs. Dr. Van
Buren for an exquisite head of Schiller, done in marble, and costing
thirty dollars. Richard did not see it. The presents were a secret from
him, all except the handsome point-lace coiffure which Aunt Barbara
sent to Mrs. Markham, together with a letter which she had sat up till
midnight to write, and in which she had touchingly commended her darling
to the new mother's care and consideration.