A Daughter of the Land

"A grand row this will be," commented young Adam. "And as usual

Kate will be right, while all of them will be trying to use her to

their advantage. Ma has done her share. Now it is your turn, Pa.

Ain't you going to go over and help her?"

"What could I do?" demanded his father. "The mischief is done

now."

"Well, if you can't do anything to help, you can let me have the

buggy to drive her to Walden, if they turn her out."

"'Forcibly invite her to proceed to her destination,' you mean,

son," said Agatha.

"Yes, Ma, that is exactly what I mean," said young Adam. "Do I

get the buggy?"

"Yes, you may take my private conveyance. But do nothing to

publish the fact. There is no need to incur antagonism if it can

be avoided."

"Kate, I'll be driving past the privet bush about nine in the

morning. If you need me, hang a white rag on it, and I'll stop at

the corner of the orchard."

"I shall probably be standing in the road waiting for you," said

Kate.

"Oh, I hope not," said Agatha.

"Looks remarkably like it to me," said Kate.

Then she picked up the telescope, said good-bye to each of them,

and in acute misery started back to her home. This time she

followed the footpath beside the highway. She was so busy with

her indignant thought that she forgot to protect her skirts from

the dust of wayside weeds, while in her excitement she walked so

fast her face was red and perspiring when she approached the

church.

"Oh, dear, I don't know about it," said Kate to the small, silent

building. "I am trying to follow your advice, but it seems to me

that life is very difficult, any way you go at it. If it isn't

one thing, it is another. An hour ago I was the happiest I have

ever been in my life; only look at me now! Any one who wants 'the

wings of morning' may have them for all of me. It seems

definitely settled that I walk, carry a load, and fight for the

chance to do even that."

A big tear rolled down either side of Kate's nose and her face

twisted in self-pity for an instant. But when she came in sight

of home her shoulders squared, the blue-gray of her eyes deepened

to steel, and her lips set in a line that was an exact counterpart

of her father's when he had made up his mind and was ready to

drive his family, with their consent or without it. As she passed

the vegetable garden -- there was no time or room for flowers in a

Bates garden -- Kate, looking ahead, could see Nancy Ellen and

Robert Gray beneath the cherry trees. She hoped Nancy Ellen would

see that she was tired and dusty, and should have time to brush

and make herself more presentable to meet a stranger, and so Nancy

Ellen did; for which reason she immediately arose and came to the

gate, followed by her suitor whom she at once introduced. Kate

was in no mood for words; one glance at her proved to Robert Gray

that she was tired and dusty, that there were tear marks dried on

her face. They hastily shook hands, but neither mentioned the

previous meeting. Excusing herself Kate went into the house

saying she would soon return.