So Kathie bathed her face and tried to rub the little throbs out of her temples. In a few moments she was ready, and the two walked down the avenue.
"There cannot be any mistake?" she exclaimed, pausing at the door.
"O no."
Grandmother was holding the baby, who had a slight cold and fever. Ethel sat at the window, hemming some breadths of ruffling. She sprang up and brought out chairs for them, and after one or two little inquiries went back to her work. Oddly enough the conversation ceased for a few moments, and in the silence Kathie fancied that she heard her heart beat, it was in such a tumult.
"I believe Kathie has some news for you," announced Mr. Conover, gravely.
Kathie rose and twined her arms around Ethel's neck.
"It is this," she said, all in a tremble,—"I cannot tell it as I ought, but your dear father is alive, Ethel, and is coming home soon."
"Not William! Miss Kathie!" and grandmother almost let the baby fall.
"Yes," replied Mr. Conover; "we heard to-day. I have brought the letter."