"Was there any reason why Ethelyn should go away?" she asked next, and
Richard's head dropped, and his eyes were cast down in shame, as
he replied: "Yes; we--quar--. We differed, I mean, the night before I went away, and
I kept her from the masquerade, I would not let her go. I locked the
door, and now she has gone--gone to Mrs. Amsden's."
He persisted in saying that, as if he would fain make himself believe it
against his better judgment.
"What is it all about? What does it mean?" Andy asked in great
perplexity; and his mother answered for Richard: "It means just this, as far as I can see: Ethelyn has got mad at Richard
for keepin' her in, which he or'to have done long ago, and so, with her
awful temper she has run away."
Mrs. Markham had defined it at last--had put into words the terrible
thing which had happened, the disgrace which she saw coming upon them;
and with this definition of it she, too, defined her own position with
regard to Ethelyn, and stood bristling all over with anger and
resentment, and ready to do battle for her son against the entire world.
"Mother! mother!" Andy gasped, and his face was whiter than Richard's.
"It is not true. Ethie never went and done that--never! Did she, Dick?
Tell me! Speak! Has Ethie run away?"
Andy was down on one knee now, and looking into Richard's face with a
look which would almost have brought Ethie back could she have seen it.
Andy had faith in her, and Richard clung to him rather than to the
mother in denouncing her so bitterly.
"I don't know, Andy," he said, "I hope not. I think not. She must have
gone to Mrs. Amsden's. We will wait till morning and see."
The sound of voices had aroused both James and John, who, half-dressed,
came down to inquire what had happened, and why Dick was there at that
unseemly hour of the night. James' face was very pale as he listened,
and when his mother spoke of the disgrace which would come upon them
all, his hard fists were clenched for a moment, while he thought of
Melinda, and wondered if with her it would make any difference. Both
James and John had liked Ethelyn, and as the temper about which their
mother talked so much had never been exhibited to them, they were
inclined even now to take her part, and cautious John suggested that it
might not be so bad as his mother feared. To be sure, he didn't know how
hard Dick and Ethie might have spatted it, or what had gone before; but
anyway his advice would be to wait and see if she was not really at Mrs.
Amsden's, or somewhere else. Richard let them manage it for him. He was
powerless to act then, and stunned and silent he sat shivering by the
stove, which they made red-hot with the blocks of wood they put in,
hoping thus to warm him. There was no more sleep at the farmhouse that
night, though James and John went back to bed, and Andy, too, crept up
to his lonely room; but not to sleep. His heart was too full for that,
and kneeling by his wooden chair, he prayed for Ethie--that she had not
run away, but might be at Mrs. Amsden's, where he was going for her
himself the moment the morning broke. He had claimed this privilege, and
his mother had granted it, knowing that many allowances would be made
for whatever Andy might say, and feeling that, on this account, he would
do better than either of his brothers. Richard, of course, could not go.
He scarcely had strength to move, and did not look up from his stooping
posture by the stove, when, at day-dawn, Andy drew on his butternut
overcoat, and tying a thick comforter about his neck, started for
Mrs. Amsden's.