A Daughter of the Land

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.