Ethelyn's Mistake

In the course of two weeks all the people in Olney called upon Ethelyn,

who would gladly have refused herself to them all. But after the morning

when Andy stood outside the door of her room, wringing his hands in

great distress at the tone of Richard's voice, and Ethelyn stayed in bed

all day with the headache, and was nursed by Eunice and Melinda, Ethelyn

did better, and was at least polite to those who called. She had said

she would not see them, and Richard had said she should; and as he

usually made people do as he liked, Ethelyn was forced to submit, but

cried herself sick. It was very desolate and lonely upstairs that day,

for Richard was busy in town, and the wind swept against the windows

with a mournful, moaning sound, which made Ethelyn think of dear old

Chicopee, and the lofty elms through whose swaying branches the same

October wind was probably sighing on this autumnal day. But, oh! how

vast the difference, she thought; for what would have been music if

heard at home among the New England hills, was agony here upon the

Western prairie.

Ethelyn was very wretched and hailed with delight the presence of

Melinda Jones, who came in the afternoon, bringing a basket of delicious

apples and a lemon tart she had made herself. Melinda was very sorry for

Ethelyn, and her face said as much as she stood by her side and laid her

hand softly upon the throbbing temples, pitying her so much, for she

guessed just how homesick she was there with Mrs. Markham, whose ways

had never seemed so peculiar, even to her, as since Ethelyn's arrival.

"And still," she thought, "I do not see how she can be so very unhappy,

in any circumstances, with a husband like Richard." But here Melinda

made a mistake; for though Ethelyn respected her husband, and had

learned to miss him when he was gone, and the day whose close was not to

bring him back would have been very long, she did not love him as a

husband should be loved; and so there was nothing to fall back upon when

other props gave way.

Wholly unsuspicious, Melinda sat down beside her, offering to brush her

hair, and while she brushed and combed, and braided, and admired the

glossy brown locks, she talked on the subject she thought most

acceptable to the young wife's ear--of Richard, and the great popularity

he had achieved, not only in his own county, but in neighboring ones,

where he stood head and shoulders above his fellows. There was talk once

of making him governor, she said, but some thought him too young.

Lately, however, she had heard that the subject was again agitated,

adding that her father and Tim both thought it more than probable that

the next election would take him to the gubernatorial mansion.