After a week, which George enjoyed to the fullest extent, while
Kate made the best of everything, they put away the coffee pot and
frying pan, folded the comforts, and went back to Aunt Ollie's for
dinner; then to Walden in the afternoon. Because Mrs. Holt knew
they would be there that day she had the house clean and the best
supper she could prepare ready for them. She was in a quandary as
to how to begin with Kate. She heartily hated her. She had been
sure the girl had a secret, now she knew it; for if she did not
attend the wedding of her sister, if she had not been at home all
summer, if her father and mother never mentioned her name or made
any answer to any one who did, there was a reason, and a good
reason. Of course a man as rich as Adam Bates could do no wrong;
whatever the trouble was, Kate was at fault, she had done some
terrible thing.
"Hidin' in the bushes!" spat Mrs. Holt. "Hidin' in the bushes!
Marry a man who didn't know he was goin' to be married an hour
before, unbeknownst to her folks, an' wouldn't even come in the
house, an' have a few of the neighbours in. Nice doin's for the
school-ma'am! Nice prospect for George."
Mrs. Holt hissed like a copperhead, which was a harmless little
creature compared with her, as she scraped, and slashed, and
dismembered the chicken she was preparing to fry. She had not
been able, even by running into each store in the village, and the
post office, to find one person who would say a word against Kate.
The girl had laid her foundations too well. The one thing people
could and did say was: "How could she marry George Holt?" The
worst of them could not very well say it to his mother. They said
it frequently to each other and then supplied the true answers.
"Look how he spruced up after she came!" "Look how he worked!"
"Look how he ran after and waited on her!" "Look how nice he has
been all summer!" Plenty was being said in Walden, but not one
word of it was for the itching ears of Mrs. Holt. They had told
her how splendid Kate was, how they loved her, how glad they were
that she was to have the school again, how fortunate her son was,
how proud she should be, until she was almost bursting with
repressed venom.
She met them at the gate, after their week's camping. They were
feeling in splendid health, the best spirits possible in the
circumstances, but appearing dirty and disreputable. They were
both laughing as they approached the gate.
"Purty lookin' bride you be!" Mrs. Holt spat at Kate.