Ethelyn's Mistake

Richard had dreaded the meeting between his polished wife and his simple

brother more than anything else, and several times he had tried to

prepare Ethelyn for it, but he could not bring himself to say, "Andy is

foolish"; for when he tried to do it Andy's pleading face came up before

him just as it looked on the morning of his departure from home in June,

when Andy had said to him: "Don't tell her what a shaller critter I am.

Let her find it out by her learning."

So Richard had said nothing particular of Andy, and now he watched him

anxiously, to see the impression he was making, and, as he saw Ethelyn's

manner, marveling greatly at this new phase in her disposition. She did

not feel half so desolate after seeing Andy, and she let him hold her

hand, which he stroked softly, admiring its whiteness, and evidently

comparing it with his own. All the Markhams had large hands and feet,

just as they were all good-looking. Even Andy had his points of beauty,

for his soft brown hair was handsomer, if possible, than Richard's, and

more luxuriant, while many a city dandy might have coveted his white,

even teeth, and his dark eyes were very placid and gentle in their

expression.

"Little sister" he called Ethelyn, who though not very short in stature,

seemed to him so much younger than he had expected Dick's wife to be

that he applied the term "little" as he would to anything which he

wished to pet.

Ethelyn's hat was laid aside by this time, and the basquine, too, which

Andy thought the prettiest coat he had ever seen, and which Eunice, who

was bidden to carry Ethelyn's things away, tried on before the glass in

Ethelyn's chamber, as she did also the hat, deciding that Melinda Jones

could make her something like them out of a gray skirt she had at home

and one of Tim's palm-leaf hats.