A Daughter of the Land - Page 138/249

Now he was gone. No doubt he had carried out his intentions. No

doubt she was standing by him as always. Kate gathered her

skirts, but Adam passed the house, driving furiously as ever, and

he only slackened speed when he was forced to at the turn from the

road to the lane. He stopped the buggy in the barnyard, got out,

and began unharnessing the horse. Kate sat still and watched him

until he led it away, then she stepped down and started across the

barnyard, down the lane leading to the dooryard. As she closed

the yard gate and rounded a widely spreading snowball bush, her

heart was pounding wildly. What was coming? How would the other

boys act, if Adam, the best balanced man of them all, was behaving

as he was? How would her mother greet her? With the thought,

Kate realized that she was so homesick for her mother that she

would do or give anything in the world to see her. Then there was

a dragging step, a short, sharp breath, and wheeling, Kate stood

facing her mother. She had come from the potato patch back of the

orchard, carrying a pail of potatoes in each hand. Her face was

haggard, her eyes bloodshot, her hair falling in dark tags, her

cheeks red with exertion. They stood facing each other. At the

first glimpse Kate cried, "Oh, Mother," and sprang toward her.

Then she stopped, while her heart again failed her, for from the

astonishment on her mother's face, Kate saw instantly that she was

surprised, and had neither sent for nor expected her. She was

nauseatingly disappointed. Adam had said she was wanted, had been

sent for. Kate's face was twitching, her lips quivering, but she

did not hesitate more than an instant.

"I see you were not expecting me," she said. "I'm sorry. Adam

came after me. I wouldn't have come if he hadn't said you sent

for me."

Kate paused a minute hopefully. Her mother looked at her

steadily.

"I'm sorry," Kate repeated. "I don't know why he said that."

By that time the pain in her heart was so fierce she caught her

breath sharply, and pressed her hand hard against her side. Her

mother stooped, set down the buckets, and taking off her

sunbonnet, wiped the sweat from her lined face with the curtain.

"Well, I do," she said tersely.

"Why?" demanded Kate.

"To see if he could use you to serve his own interests, of

course," answered her mother. "He lied good and hard when he said

I sent for you; I didn't. I probably wouldn't a-had the sense to

do it. But since you are here, I don't mind telling you that I

never was so glad to see any one in all my born days."

Mrs. Bates drew herself full height, set her lips, stiffened her

jaw, and again used the bonnet skirt on her face and neck. Kate

picked up the potatoes, to hide the big tears that gushed from her

eyes, and leading the way toward the house she said: "Come over

here in the shade. Why should you be out digging potatoes?"