A Daughter of the Land

She found travelling even easier than any one had told her. Each

station was announced. When she alighted, there were conveyances

to take her and her luggage to a hotel, patronized almost

exclusively by teachers, near the schools and lecture halls.

Large front suites and rooms were out of the question for Kate,

but luckily a tiny corner room at the back of the building was

empty and when Kate specified how long she would remain, she

secured it at a less figure than she had expected to pay. She

began by almost starving herself at supper in order to save enough

money to replace her hat with whatever she could find that would

serve passably, and be cheap enough. That far she proceeded

stoically; but when night settled and she stood in her dressing

jacket brushing her hair, something gave way. Kate dropped on her

bed and cried into her pillow, as she never had cried before about

anything. It was not ALL about the hat. While she was at it, she

shed a few tears about every cruel thing that had happened to her

since she could remember that she had borne tearlessly at the

time. It was a deluge that left her breathless and exhausted.

When she finally sat up, she found the room so close, she gently

opened her door and peeped into the hall. There was a door

opening on an outside veranda, running across the end of the

building and the length of the front.

As she looked from her door and listened intently, she heard the

sound of a woman's voice in choking, stifled sobs, in the room

having a door directly across the narrow hall from hers.

"My Lord! THERE'S TWO OF US!" said Kate.

She leaned closer, listening again, but when she heard a short

groan mingled with the sobs, she immediately tapped on the door.

Instantly the sobs ceased and the room became still. Kate put her

lips to the crack and said in her off-hand way: "It's only a

school-marm, rooming next you. If you're ill, could I get

anything for you?"

"Will you please come in?" asked a muffled voice.

Kate turned the knob, and stepping inside, closed the door after

her. She could dimly see her way to the dresser, where she found

matches and lighted the gas. On the bed lay in a tumbled heap a

tiny, elderly, Dresden-china doll-woman. She was fully dressed,

even to her wrap, bonnet, and gloves; one hand clutched her side,

the other held a handkerchief to her lips. Kate stood an instant

under the light, studying the situation. The dark eyes in the

narrow face looked appealingly at her. The woman tried to speak,

but gasped for breath. Kate saw that she had heart trouble.

"The remedy! Where is it?" she cried.