A Daughter of the Land

"Well, if I ever put that thing on in July again," she said, "you

can use my head for a knock-maul. Nancy Ellen, can't you stop at

a store as you come out in the morning and get the goods, and you

girls run me up a dress that is nice enough to go out in, and not

so hot it starts me burning before my time?"

"Of course I can," said Nancy Ellen. "About what do you want to

pay, Mother?"

"Whatever it takes to get a decent and a cool dress; cool, mind

you," said Mrs. Bates, "an' any colour but black."

"Why, Mother!" cried Nancy Ellen "it must be black!"

"No," said Mrs. Bates. "Pa kept me in black all my life on the

supposition it showed the dirt the least. There's nothing in

that. It shows dirt worse 'an white. I got my fill of black.

You can get a nice cool gray, if you want me to wear it."

"Well, I never!" said Nancy Ellen. "What will the neighbours

say?"

"What do I care?" asked Mrs. Bates. "They've talked about me all

my life, I'd be kinda lonesome if they's to quit."

Dinner over, Kate proposed that her mother should lie down while

they washed the dishes.

"I would like a little rest," said Mrs. Bates. "I guess I'll go

upstairs."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Kate. "It's dreadfully hot

up there. Go in the spare room, where it is cool; we'll keep

quiet. I am going to stay Tuesday until I move you in there,

anyway. It's smaller, but it's big enough for one, and you'll

feel much better there."

"Oh, Katie, I'm so glad you thought of that," cried Mrs. Bates.

"I been thinking and thinking about it, and it just seems as if I

can't ever steel myself to go into that room to sleep again. I'll

never enter that door that I don't see -- "

"You'll never enter it again as your room," said Kate. "I'll fix

you up before I go; and Sally Whistler told me last evening she

would come and make her home with you if you wanted her. You like

Sally, don't you?"

"Yes, I like her fine," said Mrs. Bates.

Quietly as possible the girls washed the dishes, pulled down the

blinds, closed the front door, and slipped down in the orchard

with Robert to talk things over. Nancy Ellen was stiffly reserved

with Kate, but she WOULD speak when she was spoken to, which was

so much better than silence that Kate was happy over it. Robert

was himself. Kate thought she had never liked him so well. He

seemed to grow even kinder and more considerate as the years

passed. Nancy Ellen was prettier than Kate ever had seen her, but

there was a line of discontent around her mouth, and she spoke

pettishly on slight provocation, or none at all. Now she was

openly, brazenly, brutally, frank in her rejoicing. She thought

it was the best "JOKE" that ever happened to the boys; and she

said so repeatedly. Kate found her lips closing more tightly and

a slight feeling of revulsion growing in her heart. Surely in

Nancy Ellen's lovely home, cared for and shielded in every way,

she had no such need of money as Kate had herself. She was

delighted when Nancy Ellen said she was sleepy, and was going to

the living-room lounge for a nap. Then Kate produced her sheet of

figures. She and Robert talked the situation over and carefully

figured on how an adjustment, fair to all, could be made, until

they were called to supper.