WATCHING AND WAITING The pink and white blossoms of the apple trees by the pump in Aunt Barbara's back yard were dropping their snowy petals upon the clean, bright grass, and the frogs in the meadows were croaking their sad music, when Richard Markham came again to Chicopee.

He had started for home the morning after his memorable interview with Mrs.Dr.Van Buren, and to Aunt Barbara had fallen the task of telling her troubles to the colonel's family, asking that the affair be kept as quiet as possible, inasmuch as Ethie might soon be found, and matters between her and Richard be made right.

Every day, after the mail came from the West, the colonel rang at Aunt Barbara's door and asked solemnly, "if there was any news"-- good news, he meant--and Aunt Barbara always shook her head, while her face grew thinner, and her round, straight figure began to get a stoop and a look of greater age than the family Bible would warrant.
Ethelyn had not been heard from, and search as he would, Richard could find no trace of her whatever.

She had effectually covered her tracks, so that not even a clew to her whereabouts was found.

No one had seen her, or any person like her, and the suspense and anxiety of those three--Richard, Aunt Barbara, and Andy--who loved her so well, was getting to be terrible, when there came to Andy a letter--a letter in the dear, familiar handwriting.