A Daughter of the Land

At first Kate merely sat in a pleasant place and allowed her

nerves to settle, after the short nap she had enjoyed in the

rocking chair. It was such a novel experience for her to sit

idle, that despite the attractions of growing things, running

water, and singing birds, she soon veered to thoughts of what she

would be doing if she were at home, and that brought her to the

fact that she was forbidden her father's house; so if she might

not go there, she was homeless. As she had known her father for

nearly nineteen years, for she had a birth anniversary coming in a

few days, she felt positive that he never would voluntarily see

her again, while with his constitution, he would live for years.

She might as well face the fact that she was homeless; and

prepare to pay her way all the year round. She wondered why she

felt so forlorn and what made the dull ache in her throat.

She remembered telling Nancy Ellen before going away to Normal

that she wished her father would drive her from home. Now that

was accomplished. She was away from home, in a place where there

was not one familiar face, object, or plan of life, but she did

not wish for it at all. She devoutly wished that she were back at

home even if she were preparing supper, in order that Nancy Ellen

might hem towels. She wondered what they were saying: her mind

was crystal clear as to what they were doing. She wondered if

Nancy Ellen would send Adam, 3d, with a parcel of cut-out sewing

for her to work on. She resolved to sew quickly and with stitches

of machine-like evenness, if it came. She wondered if Nancy Ellen

would be compelled to put off her wedding and teach the home

school in order that it might be taught by a Bates, as her father

had demanded. She wondered if Nancy Ellen was forced to this

uncongenial task, whether it would sour the wonderful sweetness

developed by her courtship, and make her so provoked that she

would not write or have anything to do with her. They were nearly

the same age; they had shared rooms, and, until recently, beds,

and whatever life brought them; now Kate lifted her head and ran

her hand against her throat to ease the ache gathering there more

intensely every minute. With eyes that did not see, she sat

staring at the sheer walls of the ravine as it ran toward the

east, where the water came tumbling and leaping down over stones

and shale bed. When at last she arose she had learned one lesson,

not in the History she carried. No matter what its disadvantages

are, having a home of any kind is vastly preferable to having

none. And the casualness of people so driven by the demands of

living and money making that they do not take time even to be

slightly courteous and kind, no matter how objectionable it may

be, still that, even that, is better than their active

displeasure. So she sat brooding and going over and over the

summer, arguing her side of the case, honestly trying to see

theirs, until she was mentally exhausted and still had

accomplished nothing further than arriving at the conclusion that

if Nancy Ellen was forced to postpone her wedding she would turn

against her and influence Robert Gray in the same feeling.