A Daughter of the Land

"You may also wager this," he said. "If she does, I shall be very

sorry, but I'm on my way to the country on an emergency call.

Nancy Ellen, I wish you wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't go North, or wouldn't see what every other living soul

in Hartley sees?" she asked curtly. Then she stepped inside to

put on her hat and gloves.

Kate looked at the doctor in dismay. "Oh, Robert!" she said.

"I give you my word of honour, Kate," he said. "If Nancy Ellen

only would be reasonable, the woman would see shortly that my wife

is all the world to me. I never have been, and never shall be,

untrue to her. Does that satisfy you?"

"Of course," said Kate. "I'll do all in my power to talk Nancy

Ellen out of that, on this trip. Oh, if she only had children to

occupy her time!"

"That's the whole trouble in a nutshell," said the doctor; "but

you know there isn't a scarcity of children in the world. Never a

day passes but I see half a dozen who need me, sorely. But with

Nancy Ellen, NO CHILD will do unless she mothers it, and

unfortunately, none comes to her."

"Too bad!" said Kate. "I'm so sorry!"

"Cheer her up, if you can," said the doctor.

An hour later they were speeding north, Nancy Ellen moody and

distraught, Kate as frankly delighted as any child. The spring

work was over; the crops were fine; Adam would surely have the

premium wheat to take to the County Fair in September; he would

work unceasingly for his chance with corn; he and Polly would be

all right; she could see Polly waiting in the stable yard while

Adam unharnessed and turned out the horse.

Kate kept watching Nancy Ellen's discontented face. At last she

said: "Cheer up, child! There isn't a word of truth in it!"

"I know it," said Nancy Ellen.

"Then why take the way of all the world to start, and KEEP people

talking?" asked Kate.

"I'm not doing a thing on earth but attending strictly to my own

business," said Nancy Ellen.

"That's exactly the trouble," said Kate. "You're not. You let

the little heifer have things all her own way. If it were my man,

and I loved him as you do Robert Gray, you can stake your life I

should be doing something, several things, in fact."

"This is interesting," said Nancy Ellen. "For example --?"

Kate had not given such a matter a thought. She looked from the

window a minute, her lips firmly compressed. Then she spoke

slowly: "Well, for one thing, I should become that woman's bosom

companion. About seven times a week I should uncover her most

aggravating weakness all unintentionally before the man in the

case, at the same time keeping myself, strictly myself. I should

keep steadily on doing and being what he first fell in love with.

Lastly, since eighteen years have brought you no fulfillment of

the desire of your heart, I should give it up, and content myself

and delight him by taking into my heart and home a couple of the

most attractive tiny babies I could find. Two are scarcely more

trouble than one; you can have all the help you will accept; the

children would never know the difference, if you took them as

babies, and soon you wouldn't either; while Robert would be

delighted. If I were you, I'd give myself something to work for

besides myself, and I'd give him so much to think about at home,

that charming young grass widows could go to grass!"