"Is she there?" Melinda asked, in amazement, while Andy, who had been

standing near the door which led up to the next floor, disappeared up

the stairs, leaving the women alone.

He knew the way to the room designated, and went hurrying on until he

reached the door, and there he paused, his flesh creeping with the

intensity of his excitement, and his whole being pervaded with a

crushing sense of eager expectancy. He had not put into words what or

whom he expected to find on the other side of the door he hardly dared

to open. He only knew he should be terribly disappointed if his

conjectures proved wrong, and a smothered prayer rose to his lips, "God

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grant it may be the she I mean."

The she he meant was sleeping now. The brown head which rolled so

restlessly all night was lying quietly upon the pillows, the burning

cheek resting upon one hand, and the mass of long, bright hair tucked

back under one of Mrs. Dobson's own nightcaps, that lady having sought

in vain for such an article among her mistress' wardrobe. She did not

hear Andy as he stepped softly across the floor to the bedside. Bending

cautiously above her, he hesitated a moment, while a great throb of

disappointment ran through his veins. Surely that was not Ethie, with

the hollow cheeks and the disfiguring frill around her face, giving her

more the look of the new and stylish nurse Melinda had got from

Chicago--the woman who wore a cap in place of a bonnet, and jabbered

half the time in some foreign tongue, which Melinda said was French. The

room was very dark, and Andy pushed back a blind, letting in such a

flood of light that the sleeper started, and moaned, and turned herself

upon the pillow, while with a gasping, sobbing cry, Andy fell upon his

knees, and with clasped hands and streaming eyes, exclaimed: "I thank Thee, Father of mercies, more than I can tell, for it is

Ethie--it is Ethie--it is Ethie, our own darling Ethie, come back to us

again; and now, dear Lord, bring old Dick home at once, and let us have

a time of it."

Ethie's eyes were opened and fixed inquiringly upon Andy. Something in

his voice and manner must have penetrated through the mists of delirium

clouding her brain, for the glimmer of a smile played round her lips,

and her hands moved slowly toward him; then they went back again to her

throat and tugged at the nightcap strings which good Mrs. Dobson had

tied in a hard knot by way of keeping the cap upon the refractory head.

Ethie did not fancy the cap any more than Andy, who, guessing her

wishes, lent his own assistance to the untying of the strings.




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