A Daughter of the Land | Page 8

his big-boned, weather-beaten face, to his
heavy shoes, then turned without a word and went back toward the
house. She went around it to the cherry tree and with no preliminaries
said to her sister: "Nancy Ellen, I want you to lend me enough money
to fix my clothes a little and pay my way to Normal this summer. I can
pay it all back this winter. I'll pay every cent with interest, before I
spend any on anything else."
"Why, you must be crazy!" said Nancy Ellen.
"Would I be any crazier than you, when you wanted to go?" asked
Kate.
"But you were here to help Mother," said Nancy Ellen.
"And you are here to help her now," persisted Kate.
"But I've got to fix up my clothes for the County Institute," said Nancy
Ellen, "I'll be gone most of the summer."
"I have just as much right to go as you had," said Kate.
"Father and Mother both say you shall not go," answered her sister.
"I suppose there is no use to remind you that I did all in my power to
help you to your chance."
"You did no more than you should have done," said Nancy Ellen.
"And this is no more than you should do for me, in the circumstances,"
said Kate.

"You very well know I can't! Father and Mother would turn me out of
the house," said Nancy Ellen.
"I'd be only too glad if they would turn me out," said Kate. "You can let
me have the money if you like. Mother wouldn't do anything but talk;
and Father would not strike you, or make you go, he always favours
you."
"He does nothing of the sort! I can't, and I won't, so there!" cried Nancy
Ellen.
"'Won't,'" is the real answer, 'so there,'" said Kate.
She went into the cellar and ate some cold food from the cupboard and
drank a cup of milk. Then she went to her room and looked over all of
her scanty stock of clothing, laying in a heap the pieces that needed
mending. She took the clothes basket to the wash room, which was the
front of the woodhouse, in summer; built a fire, heated water, and while
making it appear that she was putting the clothes to soak, as usual, she
washed everything she had that was fit to use, hanging the pieces to dry
in the building.
"Watch me fly!" muttered Kate. "I don't seem to be cutting those curves
so very fast; but I'm moving. I believe now, having exhausted all home
resources, that Adam is my next objective. He is the only one in the
family who ever paid the slightest attention to me, maybe he cares a
trifle what becomes of me, but Oh, how I dread Agatha! However,
watch me take wing! If Adam fails me I have six remaining prospects
among my loving brothers, and if none of them has any feeling for me
or faith in me there yet remain my seven dear brothers-in-law, before I
appeal to the tender mercies of the neighbours; but how I dread Agatha!
Yet I fly!"

AN EMBRYO MIND READER
KATE was far from physical flight as she pounded the indignation of
her soul into the path with her substantial feet. Baffled and angry, she

kept reviewing the situation as she went swiftly on her way, regardless
of dust and heat. She could see no justice in being forced into a position
that promised to end in further humiliation and defeat of her hopes. If
she only could find Adam at the stable, as she passed, and talk with him
alone! Secretly, she well knew that the chief source of her dread of
meeting her sister-in-law was that to her Agatha was so funny that
ridiculing her had been regarded as perfectly legitimate pastime. For
Agatha WAS funny; but she had no idea of it, and could no more avoid
it than a bee could avoid being buzzy, so the manner in which her
sisters-in-law imitated her and laughed at her, none to secretly, was far
from kind. While she never guessed what was going on, she realized
the antagonism in their attitude and stoutly resented it.
Adam was his father's favourite son, a stalwart, fine-appearing, big man,
silent, honest, and forceful; the son most after the desires of the father's
heart, yet Adam was the one son of the seven who had ignored his
father's law that all of his boys were to marry strong, healthy young
women, poor women, working women. Each of the others at coming of
age had contracted this prescribed marriage as speedily as possible, first
asking father Bates, the girl afterward. If father Bates disapproved, the
girl was never asked at all. And the