"Poor, dear Ethie," he called her to himself, as he sat alone at night in the room where she used to be.

At first he had freely talked of her with his family.

That was when, like Aunt Barbara, they were expecting her back, or rather expecting constantly to hear from her through Aunt Barbara.
She would go to Chicopee first, they felt assured, and then Aunt Barbara would write, and Richard would start at once.

How many castles he built to that second bringing her home, where Melinda made everything so pleasant, and where she could be happy for a little time, when they would go where she liked--it did not matter where.

Richard was willing for anything, only he did want her to stay a little time at the farmhouse, just to see how they had improved, and to learn that his mother could be kind if she tried.