RICHARD AND ETHELYN Arrived at Davenport, and so near his home that he could discern its roofs and chimneys, the hope which had kept Richard up all through his rapid journey began to give way, and he hardly knew what or whom he expected to find, as he went up the steps to his house and rang the door bell.

Certainly not Andy--he had not thought of him--and his pulse quickened with a feeling of eagerness and hope renewed when he caught sight of his brother's beaming face and felt the pressure of his broad hand.

In his delight Andy kissed his brother two or three times during the interval it took to get him through the hall into the reception room, where they were alone.

Arrived there, Andy fell to capering across the floor, while Richard looked on, puzzled to decide whether his weak brother had gone wholly daft or not.

Recollecting himself at last, and assuming a more sober attitude, Andy came close to him and whispered: "Dick, you ought to be thankful, so thankful and glad that God has been kind at last and heard our prayers, just as I always told you he would.
Guess who is upstairs, ravin' crazy by spells, and quiet as a Maltese kitten the rest of the time?
I'll bet, though, you'll never guess, it is so strange?
Try, now--who do you think it is ?" "Ethelyn," came in a whisper from Richard's lips, and rather crestfallen, the simple Andy said, "Somebody told you, I know; but you are right.