The wind whistled outside.  She thought it was he, and she heard him again:  “You’re my handsome sister.  Not one of the fellows have as handsome a sister as I.”

How proud she had felt when she had started him off to college.  “It only means a few years of a little harder work, and then I’ll see my boy able to take his stand with anybody.”

But now she wept and groaned afresh.  “Oh, how could he treat me so, how could he!  The wretched disgrace!”

He had been expelled.  The president’s letter was severe; but the young man’s letter regretted it as only a boyish prank.  He was sorry.  He had never expected anything so serious would come of it.  He deserved the disgrace.  It only hurt him through his love for her.  But only forgive him, and he would show her what he could yet do.

What had he done?

He had tied a calf to the president’s door-bell.

She remembered her answer to this letter, asking for her forgiveness.  It stood before her, written in characters of flame.

Had she in this been harsh to the boy, the only legacy her dying mother had to leave her?

“Never speak to me, nor see my face again.  You have disgraced yourself and me.”

It was not so long a letter but that she could easily remember it.

Afterward, the president himself had written again to her.  He thought he had been too hasty.  It was truly only a boy’s prank.  It was, of course, ungentlemanly, but the trick was played on All-Fool’s Night, and that should have had greater weight than it did.  The faculty were willing, after proper apologies were made, to excuse it, and take her brother back.

Where was her brother?  He could not be found, and not one word had she heard of him since she sent that dreadful letter.  He might be dead.  Oh, how often she thought that!  Now she wrung her hands and covered her wet cheeks with them.  Her hair fell about her shoulders, as she shook in her agony of remorse.

* * * * * * *

What noise is this? the door-bell pealing through the silent house.  Again and again it rings.

She did not hear this bell.  She was listening to another, and how it rang!  Louder and louder, how it rang, and well it might, with a calf jumping about, trying to get away from it.  Even in all her misery — so near together are the ecstasies of emotion — she laughed aloud and then shuddered at the thought that she should never again hear any noise quite so loud as this of the past.

Then she felt in the silent, chill room a tattered presence, a little half-frozen hand upon her own.  She turned her streaming eyes, and they were met by the big, wide eyes of Elsie.

“Miss Amanda, didn’t you hear the door-bell ringing?  There is something - no, there is somebody — waiting down-stairs for you.”

Half dazed, half afraid, ashamed of her tears, Miss Amanda left the room, led by the child as by an unearthly presence into an unearthly presence.