This was what Mrs. Dr. Van Buren said to Ethelyn, after a stormy interview with Frank, who had at first sworn roundly that he would not give Ethie up, then had thanked his mother not to meddle with his business, then bidden her “go to thunder,” and finally, between a cry and a blubber, said he should always like Ethie best if he married a hundred Netties.  This was in the morning, and the afternoon train had carried Mrs. Dr. Van Buren to Chicopee, where Ethelyn’s glowing face flashed a bright welcome when she came, but was white and pallid as the face of a corpse when the voluminous skirts of Mrs. Van Buren’s poplin dress passed through the gate next day and disappeared in the direction of the depot.  Aunt Barbara was not at home—­she had gone to visit a friend in Albany; and so Ethelyn met and fought with her pain alone, stifling it as best she could, and succeeding so well that Aunt Barbara, on her return, never suspected the fierce storm which Ethelyn had passed through during her absence, or dreamed how anxiously the young girl watched and waited for some word from Frank which should say that he was ready to defy his mother, and abide by his first promise.  But no such letter came, and at last, when she could bear the suspense no longer, Ethelyn wrote herself to her recreant lover, asking if it were really so that hereafter their lives lay apart from each other.  If such was his wish, she was content, she said, and Frank Van Buren, who could not detect the air of superb scorn which breathed in every line of that letter, felt somehow aggrieved that “Ethie should take it so easy,” and relieved too, that with her he should have no trouble, as he had anticipated.  He was getting used to Nettie, and getting to like her, too, for her manner toward him was far more agreeable than Ethie’s brusque way of manifesting her impatience at his lack of manliness.  It was inexplicable how Ethie could care for one so greatly her inferior, both mentally and physically, but it would seem that she loved him all the more for the very weakness which made her nature a necessity of his, and the bitterest pang she had ever felt came with the answer which Frank sent back to her letter, and which the reader has seen.

* * * * *

It was all over now, settled, finished, and two days after she hunted up Aunt Barbara’s spectacles for her, and then sat very quiet while the old lady read Aunt Sophia’s letter, announcing Frank’s engagement with Miss Nettie Hudson, of Philadelphia.  Aunt Barbara knew of Ethelyn’s engagement with Frank, but like her sister at the time of its occurrence, she had esteemed it mere child’s play.  Later, however, as she saw how they clung to each other, she had thought it possible that something might come of it, but as Ethelyn was wholly reticent on that subject, it had never been mentioned between them.  When, however, the news of Frank’s second engagement came, Aunt Barbara looked over her spectacles straight at the girl, who, for any sign she gave, might have been a block of marble, so rigid was every muscle of her face, and even the tone of her voice as she said: