With a strange obtuseness peculiar to some people who have seen their dearest plans come to naught, she failed to ascribe the trouble to herself, but charged it all to Richard.

He was the one in fault; and by the time the letter was finished the Bigelow blood was at a boiling pitch, and for a polished lady, Mrs.Dr.Van Buren, of Boston, raised her voice pretty high as she asked: "Did you presume, sir, to think that my son--mine--a married man--would make an appointment with Ethie, a married woman?
You must have a strange misconception of the manner in which he was brought up! But it is all of a piece with the rest of your abominable treatment of Ethelyn.

I wonder the poor girl stayed with you as long as she did.

Think of it, Barbara! Accused her of going to meet Frank by appointment, and then locked her up to keep her at home, and she a Bigelow!" This was the first inkling Aunt Barbara had of what was in the letter.
She was, however, certain that Frank was in some way involved in the matter, and anxious to know the worst, she said, beseechingly: "Tell me something, do.

I can't read it, for my eyes are dim-like to-night." They were full of unshed tears--the kind old eyes, which did not grow one whit sterner or colder as Mrs.Van Buren explained, to some extent, what was in the letter; reading a little, telling a little, and skipping a little where Frank was especially concerned, until Aunt Barbara had a pretty correct idea of the whole.