"I'll promise to THINK about it," said Kate, trying to free
herself, for despite the circumstances and the hour, her mind flew
back to a thousand times when only one kind word from Nancy Ellen
would have saved her endless pain. It was endless, for it was
burning in her heart that instant. At the prospect of wealth,
position, and power, Nancy Ellen could smother her with caresses;
but poverty, pain, and disgrace she had endured alone.
"I shan't let you go till you promise," threatened Nancy Ellen.
"When are you to see him again?"
"Ten, this morning," said Kate. "You better let me get to bed, or
I'll look a sight."
"Then promise," said Nancy Ellen.
Kate laid firm hands on the encircling arms. "Now, look here,"
she said, shortly, "it's about time to stop this nonsense.
There's nothing I can promise you. I must have time to think.
I've got not only myself, but the children to think for. And I've
only got till ten o'clock, so I better get at it."
Kate's tone made Nancy Ellen step back.
"Kate, you haven't still got that letter in your mind, have you?"
she demanded.
"No!" laughed Kate, "I haven't! He offered me a thousand dollars
if I could pronounce him a word he couldn't spell; and it's
perfectly evident he's studied until he is exactly like anybody
else. No, it's not that!"
"Then what is it? Simpleton, there WAS nothing else!" cried Nancy
Ellen.
"Not so much at that time; but this is nearly twenty years later,
and I have the fate of my children in my hands. I wish you'd go
to bed and let me think!" said Kate.
"Yes, and the longer you think the crazier you will act," cried
Nancy Ellen. "I know you! You better promise me now, and stick
to it."
For answer Kate turned off the light; but she did not go to bed.
She sat beside the window and she was still sitting there when
dawn crept across the lake and began to lighten the room. Then
she stretched herself beside Nancy Ellen, who roused and looked at
her.
"You just coming to bed?" she cried in wonder.
"At least you can't complain that I didn't think," said Kate, but
Nancy Ellen found no comfort in what she said, or the way she said
it. In fact, she arose when Kate did, feeling distinctly sulky.
As they returned to their room from breakfast, Kate laid out her
hat and gloves and began to get ready to keep her appointment.
Nancy Ellen could endure the suspense no longer.
"Kate," she said in her gentlest tones, "if you have no mercy on
yourself, have some on your children. You've no right, positively
no right, to take such a chance away from them."