 Chapter 24 of A Daughter of the Land. A Daughter of the Land by Jean Stratton Porter. Chapter 24 Polly Tries Her Wings. Finally, Kate wandered back to the hotel and went to the room to learn if Nancy Allen was there. She was and seemed very much perturbed. The first thing she did was to hand Kate a big white envelope, which she opened and found to be a few lines from Jean Jardine, explaining that he had been unexpectedly called away on some very important business. He reiterated his delight in having seen her and hoped for the same pleasure at no very distant date. Kate read it and tossed it on the dresser. As she did so, she saw a telegram lying opened among Nancy Allen's toilet articles and thought with pleasure that Robert was coming. She glanced at her sister for confirmation and saw that she was staring from the window as if she were in doubt about something. Kate thought probably she was still upset about Jean Jardine and that might as well be gotten over. So she said, That note was not delivered promptly. It is from Jean Jardine. I should have had it before I left. He was called away on important business and wrote to let me know he would not be able to keep his appointment. But without his knowledge he had a representative on the spot. Nancy Allen seemed interested, so Kate proceeded. You couldn't guess in a thousand years. I will have to tell you, Spang. It was his wife. His wife cried Nancy Allen, but you said, So I did, said Kate, and so he did. Since the wife loomed on the horizon, I remembered that he said no word to me of marriage. He merely said he always had loved me, and always would. MIRELY? scoffed Nancy Allen. MIRELY? Just merely, said Kate. He didn't lay a finger on me. He didn't ask me to marry him. He just merely met me after a long separation and told me that he still loved me. The BRUTE, said Nancy Allen. He should be killed. I can't see it, said Kate. He did nothing un-gently. If we jumped to wrong conclusions, that was not his fault. I doubt if he remembered or thought at all of his marriage. It wouldn't be much to forget. I'm fresh from an interview with his wife. She is an old acquaintance of mine. I once secured her for his mother's maid. You have heard me speak of her. Impossible! John Jardine would not do that! cried Nancy Allen. There is a family to prove it, said Kate. Jenny admits that she studied him, taught him, made herself indispensable to him, and a few weeks after his mother's passing, married him. After he had told her he did not love her, and never could. I feel sorry for him. Sure, poor defroaded creature, said Nancy Allen. What about her? Nothing, so far as I can see, said Kate. By her own account she was responsible she should have kept in her own class. All right, that settles Jenny, said Nancy Allen. I saw you notice the telegram from Robert. Now go on and settle me. Is he coming? asked Kate. No, he's not coming, said Nancy Allen. Has he eloped with the widow? asked Kate flippantly. He merely telegraphs that he thinks it would be wise for us to come home on the first train, said Nancy Allen. For all I can make of that, the elopement might quite as well be in your family as mine. Kate held out her hand, Nancy Allen laid the message in it. Kate studied it carefully. Then she raised steady eyes to her sister's face. Do you know what I should do about this? She asked. Catch the first train, of course, she said. Far be it from me, said Kate. I should at once telegraph him that his message was not clear to kindly particularize. We have only got settled. We are having a fine time, especially right now. Why should we pack up and go home? I can't think of any possibility that could arise that would make it necessary for him to send for us. Can you? I can't think of two things, said Nancy Allen. I can't think of a very pretty, confinding little cat of a woman who is desperately infatuated with my husband, and I can't think of two children, fathered by George Holt, who might possibly, just possibly, have enough of his blood in their vines to be like him, given opportunity. Alone for a week there is barely a faint possibility that you might be needed. Alone for the same week there is the faintest possibility that Robert is in a situation where I could help him. Kate drew a deep breath. Isn't life the most amusing thing? She asked. I had almost forgotten my wings. I guess we better take them and fly straight home. She aroused and called the office to learn about trains, and then began packing her trunk. As she folded her dresses and stuffed them in rather courteously, she said. I don't know why I got it into my head that I could go away and have a few days of good time without something happening at home. But you are not sure anything has happened at home. This call may be for me, said Nancy Allen. It may, but this is July, said Kate. I've been thinking hard and fast. It's probable I can put my finger on the spot. Nancy Allen posed and standing erect. She looked questionably at Kate. The weak link in my chain at the present minute is poorly, said Kate. I didn't pay much attention at the time, because there wasn't enough of it really to attract attention. But since I think, I can recall signs of growing discontent in Poli lately. She fussed about the work and resented being left in the house while I went to the fields, and she had begun looking up the road to Peters so much that her head was slightly turned toward the north most of the time. With me away. What do you think? Demanded Nancy Allen. Think very likely she has decided that she will sacrifice her chance for more schooling and to teach, for the sake of marrying a big green country boy named Hank Peters, said Kate, thereby keeping in her own class, suggested Nancy Allen. Kate laughed shortly. Exactly. She said. I didn't aspire to anything different from her from what she has had, but I wanted her to have more education and wait until she was older. Marriage is too hard work for a girl to begin, at less than it's seen. If it is Poli, and she has gone away with Hank Peters, they have no place to go but his home. And if ever she thought I worked her too hard, she will find out she has played most of her life. When she begins taking orders from Mrs. Amanda Peters, you know her, she never can keep a girl more than a week, and she always wanting one. If Poli had tackled that job, God help her. Cheer up, we are in that delightful state of uncertainty, where Poli may be lacking the cookstove, like a doodful daughter, while Robert has decided that he would like a divorce, said Nancy Allen. Nancy Allen, there is nothing in that so far as Robert is concerned. He told me so the evening we came away, said Kate. Nancy Allen banged down a truck lid and said, Well, I'm getting to the place where I don't much care whether there is or there is not. What a whopper, laughed Kate, but cheer up, this is my trouble. I feel it in my bones. Wish I knew for sure, if she's loped, and it's all over with, we might as well stay and finish our visit. If she's married, I can't unmarry her, and I wouldn't if I could. How are you going to apply your philosophy to yourself? Asked Nancy Allen. By letting time and Poli take their course, said Kate, this is a place where parents are of no account whatever. They stand back until it's time to clean up the wreck, and then they get theirs, usually theirs, and several of someone's else in the bargain. As the train stopped at Hartley, Kate sat where she could see Robert on the platform. It was only a fleeting glance, but she thought she had never seen him, look so wholesome, so vital, so much a man to be desired. No wonder a woman lacking in fine scruples would covet him, thought Kate. To Nancy Allen, she said hastily, that troubles mine, Robert's on the platform. Where? demanded Nancy Allen, peering from the window. Kate smiled as she walked from the car and confronted Robert. Get it over quickly, she said, it's Poli. He nodded. Did she remember to call on the squire? She asked. Oh, yes, said Robert, it was at Peter's, and they had the whole neighborhood in. Kate swayed slightly, then lifted her head, her eyes blazing. She had come, feeling not altogether guiltless, and quite prepared to overlook a youthful elopement. The insult of having her only daughter giving a wedding at the home of the groom, about which the whole neighborhood would be laughing at her, was a different matter. Slowly the high color faded from Kate's face, as she stepped back. Excuse me, Nancy Allen, she said, I didn't mean to deprive you of the chance of even speaking to Robert. I knew this was for me. I was over anxious to learn what choice morsel life had in store for me now. It's one that will be bitter, on my tongue to the day of my death. Oh, Kate, I am so sorry, that if this had to happen, it happened in just that way, said Nancy Allen. But don't mind, there are only foolish kids. Who, Mr. and Mrs. Peters, and the neighbors who attended the wedding? Foolish kids, oh no, said Kate. Where's Adam? I told him I would bring you out, said Robert. Why didn't he send for you, or do something? Demanded Kate. I'm afraid the facts are that Pooley lied to him, said Robert. She told him that Peters were having a party, and Mrs. Peters wanted her to come early, and help her with the supper. They had the magistrate out from town, and had the ceremony an hour before Adam got there. When he arrived, and found out what had happened, he told Pooley and the Peters family exactly his opinion of them. And then he went home, and turned on all the lights, and sat where he could be seen, on the porch all evening, as a protest in evidence of his disapproval, I take it. Slowly, the colour began to creep back into Kate's face. The good boy, she said, in commendation. He called me at once, and we took it over, and I sent you the telegram. But as he said, it was done. There was no use trying to undo it. One thing will be a comfort to you. All of your family, and almost all your friends, left as soon as Adam spoke his peace. And they found it was a wedding, and not a party to which they have been invited. It was a chapitrick of Peters. Kate ascended. It was because I felt instinctively that Mrs. Peters had it in her to do tricks like that, that I never would have anything to do with her, said Kate. More than to be passing civil. This is how she gets her revenge, and her hired girl. For no wages, I'll be bound, it's a chapitrick. I'm glad Adam saved me the trouble of telling her so. Robert took Nancy Allen home, and then drove to Bates' corners with Kate. In a few days now, I hope we can see each other oftener. He said on the way, I got a car yesterday, and it doesn't seem so complicated. Any intelligent person can learn to drive in a short time. I like it so much, and I knew I would have such constant use for it, that—now this is a secret. I ordered another for Nancy Allen, so she can drive about town, and run out here as she chooses. Will she be pleased? She will be overjoyed. That was dear of you, Robert. Only one thing in world would please her more, said Kate. What's that? asked Robert. Kate looked him in the eye and smiled. Oh! he said. But there's nothing in it. Except talk. That worries and humiliates Nancy Allen, said Kate. Kate, he said suddenly. If you were in my shoes, what would you do? The next time I got a phone call or a note from Mrs. Towsy, and she was having one of those terrible headaches, I should say. I'm dreadfully sorry, Mrs. Towsy, but a breath of talk that might be unpleasant for you and for my wife has come to my ear, so I know you will think it wiser to call Dr. Mills, who can serve you better than I, in a great rush this afternoon, good-bye. That is what I should do, Robert, and I should do it quickly and emphatically. Then I should interest Nancy Allen in her car for a time. And then I should keep my eyes open. And the first time I found in my practice a sound baby with a clean bill of health and no incomprenses. I should have it dressed attractively and bestow it on Nancy Allen as casually as I did the car. And in the meantime, love her plantly, Robert. You can never know how she feels about this. And it is in no way her fault. She couldn't possibly have known why you would have married her just the same if you had known. Isn't that so? It's quite so, Kate. I think your head is level. And I will follow your advice to the letter. Now you have healed my lame leg. As the dog said in MacGuffin's third, what can I do for this poor dog? Nothing, said Kate. I have got to hold still and take it. Life will do the doing. I don't want to crock, but remember my word. It will do plenty. We will come often. He said as he turned to go back. Kate slowly woke up the path, dreading to meet Adam. He evidently had been watching for her, for he came round the corner of the house, took her arm, and they woke up the steps and into the living room together. She looked at him. He looked at her. At last he said, I'm afraid that's a good deal of this is my fault, mother. How so? Asked Kate seriously. I guess I portrayed your trust in me, said Adam heavily. Of course I did all my work, and attended to things. But in the evening, after work was over, the very first evening on the way home, we stopped to talk to Henry at the gate, and he got in and came on down, and we could see Millie at their gate. And I wanted her. I wanted her so much, mother, and it was going to be lonesome. So all of us went on there, and she came up here, and we sat on the porch, and then I took her home, and that left Henry and Paulie together. The next night Henry took us to town for a treat, and we were all together. And the next night Millie asked us all there, and so it went. It was all as open and innocent as it could be. Only Henry and Paulie were in awful earnest, and she was bound she wouldn't be sent to town to school. Why didn't she tell me so? She never objected a word to me, said Kate. Well, mother, you are so big, and Paulie was so little, and she was used to minding. Yes, this looks like it, said Kate. Well, go on. That's all, said Adam. It was only that instead of staying at home and attending to our own affairs, we were somewhere every night, or Millie, and Henry were here. That is where I was to blame. I'm afraid you will never forgive me, mother. But I didn't take good care of sister. I left her to Henry Peters, while I tried to see how nice I could be to Millie. I didn't know what Paulie and Henry were planning, honest I didn't, mother. I would have told Uncle Robert and sent for you if I had. I thought when I went there, it was to be our little crowd, like it was at York's. I was furious when I found they were married. I told Mr. and Mrs. Peters what they were, right before the company. And then I came straight home, and all of the family and York's, and most of the others came straight away. Only a few stayed to the supper. I was so angry with Paulie, I just pushed her away. And didn't even say good night to her. The little silly fool. Mother, if she had told you, you would have let her stay at home this winter, and got her clothing, and let her be married here, when she was old enough, wouldn't you? Certainly, said Kate, all the world knows that Bates all marry, and they all marry young. Don't blame yourself, Adam, if Paulie had it in her system to do this, and she did. Or she wouldn't have done it. The thing would have happened when I was here, and right under my nose. It was a scheme all planned and ready before I left. I know that now. Let it go. There's nothing we can do, until things begin to go wrong. As they always do in this kind of wedding. Then we shall get our call. In the meantime, you mustn't push your sister away. She may need you sooner than you would think. And will you just please have enough confidence in my common sense and love for you, to come to me first, when you feel that there is a girl who is indispensable to your future Adam? Yes, I will, said Adam, and it won't be long, and the girl will be, Millie York. All right, said Kate gravely. Whenever the time comes, let me know about it. Now see if you can find me something to eat, till I lay off my hat and wash. It was a long, hot ride, and I'm tired. Since there is nothing I can do, I wish I had stayed where I was. No, I don't either. I see Joy coming over the hill for Nancy Allen. Whereas Joy coming to Nancy Allen, asked the boy, posing an instant, before he started to the kitchen. Oh, because she had such a very tough, uncomfortable time was life, said Kate. That is the very nature of things. Joy should come her way. The boy stood mystified until the expression on his face so amused Kate that she began laughing and then he understood. That's why it's coming, said Kate. And here's how it's coming. She's going to get rid of a bothersome worry that's troubling her head, and she's going to have a very splendid gift, but it's a deep secret. Then you will have to whisper it, said Adam, going to her and holding a convenient ear. Kate rested her hands on his shoulder a minute, as she leaned on him. Her face buried in his crisp black hair. Then she whispered the secret. Creaky, isn't that grand? Cried the boy, backing away to stare at her. Yes, it is so grand, I'm going to try it ourselves, said Kate. We have a pretty sunk balance in the bank, and I think it would be great fun evenings or when we want to go to town in a hurry and the horses are tired. Adam was slowly moving toward the kitchen. His face was more of a study than before. Mother, he said as he reached the door, I'll be hanged if I know how to take you. I thought you would just raise Cain over what Polly has done, but you act so sane and sensible. Some way it doesn't seem so bad as it did, and I feel more sorry for Polly than like going back on her. And are you truly in earnest about a car? I'm going to think very seriously about it this winter, and I feel almost sure it will come true by early spring, said Kate, but who said anything about going back on Polly? Oh, Mrs. York and all the neighbors said that you would never forgive her and that you would never darken your door again, and things like that until I was almost crazy. Answered Adam. Kate smiled grimly. Adam, she said, I had seven years of that darken your door business myself. It is a mighty cold, hard proposition. It's a wonder the neighbors didn't remember that. Maybe they did. I thought I was so much of a bait leopard that I couldn't change my spots. If they are watching me, they will find that I'm not spotted. I'm sorry and humiliated over what Polly has done, but I'm not going to gnash my teeth and tear my hair and wear in public or in private. I'm trying to keep my real mean spot so deep it can't be seen. If ever I get my chance, Adam, you watch me pay back Mrs. Peters. That is the size and location of my spot, but it's far deeper than my skin. Now go on and find me food, man, food. Adam sat close, while Kate ate her supper, then he helped her unpack her trunk and hung away her dresses, and then they sat on the porch, talking for a long time. When at last they arose to go to bed, Kate said. Adam, about Polly. First time you see her, if she asked, tell her she left home of her own free will and accord and in her own way, which by the way happens to be a halt way, but you didn't mention that. I think by this time she has learned or soon she will learn that, and whenever she wants to come back and face me, to come right ahead, I can't stand it if she can. Can you get that straight? Adam said he could. He got that straight and so much else, that by the time he finished, Polly realized that both he and her mother had left her in the house to try to shield her, that if she had told what she wanted in a straightforward manner, she might have had a wedding outfit prepared and been married from her home at a proper time and in a proper way, and without putting her mother to shame before the community. Polly was very much ashamed of herself by the time Adam finished. She could not find it in her heart to blame Henry. She knew he was no more to blame than she was, but she did store up a grievance against Mr. and Mrs. Peters. They were older and had had experience with the world. They might have told Polly what she should do, and instead of having done everything in their power, to make her do what she had done, ribing, coaxing, urging, all the direction of her inclinations. At heart Polly was big enough to admit that she had followed her inclinations without thinking at all of what the result would be. Adam never would have done what she had, Adam would have thought of his mother, of his name, and his honor. Poor little Polly had to admit that honor with her has always been a matter of, now remember, be careful, and like caution on the lips of her mother. The more Polly thought, the worse she felt. The worse she felt, the more the whole Peters family tried to comfort her. She was violently homesick in a few days. But Adam had said she was to come when she could face her mother, and Polly suddenly found that she would rather undertake to run ten miles than to face her mother. So she began a process of hiding from her. If she sat on the porch and saw her mother coming, she ran in the house. She would go to no public place where she might meet her. For a few weeks she lived a life of working for Mrs. Peters from dawn to dark. Under the stimulus of what a sweet girl she was, how splendid she did things, how fortunate Henry was. In dispersed was Conchillua kissing, patting and petting, all very new and unusual to Polly. By that time she was so very ill, she could not lift her head from the pillow half the day. But it was to the credit of the badly disappointed Peters family that they kept up the petting. When Polly grew better, she had no desire to go anywhere. She worked to make up for the trouble she had been during her illness, to so every spare moment and to do her full share of the day's work in the house, of an excessively nice woman, whose work never was done, and the most hopeless thing of all never would be. Mrs. Peters' head was full of things that she meant to do three years in the future. Every night found Polly so tired she staggered to bed early as possible. Every morning found her confronting the same round, which from the nature of her condition, every morning was more difficult for her. Kate and Adam followed their usual routine was only the alterations required by the absence of Polly. Kate now prepared breakfast while Adam did the feeding and milking, washed the dishes and made the beds, while he hitched up, then went to the field with him. On rainy days he swept and she dusted. Always they took over and planned everything they did, in the house or a field. These days came, contrived, economized and worked to attain the shortest, easiest end to any result they strove for. They were growing in physical force, they were efficient, they attended their own affairs trickly, their work was always done on time, their place in order, their deposits at the bank frequent. As the cold days came, they missed Polly, but scarcely ever mentioned her. They had more books and read and studied together, while every few evenings Adam picked up his hat and disappeared. But soon he and Millie came in together, then they all read, popped corn, make taffy, knitted. Often Kate was called away by some sewing or upstairs work she wanted to do, so that the youngsters had plenty of time alone, travel in the wonder of the life's greatest secret. To Kate's ears came the word that Polly would be a mother in the spring, that the Peter's family were delighted and anxious for the child to be a girl, as they found six males sufficient for one family. Polly was looking well, feeling fine, was a famous little worker and seldom sat on a chair because some member of the Peter's family usually held her. I should think she would get sick of all that mushing. Said Adam, when he repeated these things. She's not like us, said Kate. She will take all she can get and go for more. She's a long time coming, but I'm glad she's well and happy. Bankham, said Adam, she isn't so very well. She's white as putty, and there are great big dark hollows under her eyes. And she's always panting for breath, like she had been running. Really every time I pass there I see her out scrubbing the porches or feeding the chickens or washing the windows or something. You bet Mrs. Peter's has got a fine hired girl now, and she's smiling all over about it. She really has something to smile about, said Kate. To Polly's ears went the word that Adam and her mother were having a fine time together, always together, and that they had Milly York up three times a week to spend the evening, and that Milly said that it passed her to see why Polly ran away from Mrs. Holt. She was the grandest woman alive, and if she had any running to do in her neighborhood, she would run to her, not from her. Whereupon Polly closed her lips firmly and looked black, but not before she had said, Well, if mother had done just one night a week of that entertaining for Henry and me, we wouldn't have run from her either. Polly said nothing until April, then Kate answered the telephone one day, and a few seconds later was ringing for Adam as if she would pull down the bell. He came running and soon was on his way to Peter's with the single buggy, with instructions to drive slowly and carefully, and on no account to let Polly slip getting out. The Peter's family had all gone to bury an aunt in the neighborhood, leaving Polly alone for the day, and Polly at once called up her mother and said she was dying to see her, and if she couldn't come home for the day she would die soon, and be glad of it. Kate knew the visit should not have been made at that time and in that way, but she knew that Polly was under a dangerous, nervous strain. She herself would not go to Peter's in Mrs. Peter's absence. She did not know what else to do. As she waited for Polly, she thought of many things she would say. When she saw her, she took her in her arms, almost carried her into the house, and she said nothing at all, save how glad she was to see her, and she did nothing at all except to try with all her might to comfort and please her. For Kate, Polly did not seem like a strong, healthy girl approaching maternity. She appeared like a very sick woman who sorely needed attention, while a few questions made her so sure of it that she at once called Robert. He gave both of them all the comfort he could. But what he told Nancy Allen was, Polly has had no attention whatsoever. She warns me, and I will have to go. But it's a case I would like to step aside. I will do all I can, but the time is short. Oh Lord, said Nancy Allen, is it one more for Kate? Yes, said Robert, I am very much afraid it's one more for Kate. End of Chapter 24 Chapter 25 of A Daughter of the Land. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. A Daughter of the Land by Jean Stratton Porter, Chapter 25. One more for Kate. Polly and Kate had a long day together, while Adam was about the house, much of the time. Both of them said and did everything they could think of to cheer and comfort Polly, whose spirits seemed most variable. One minute she would be laughing and planning for the summer gala, the next she would be gloomy and depressed, and declaring she never would live through the birth of her baby. If she had appeared well, this would not have worried Kate, but she looked even sicker than she seemed to feel. She was thin, while her hands were hot and tremulous. As the afternoon went on, and time to go came nearer, she grew more and more despondent. While Kate proposed watching when the Peter's family came home, calling them up and telling them that Polly was there would remain all night, and that Henry should come down. Polly flatly veeted the preposition, but she seemed to feel much better after it had been made. She was like herself again for a short time, and then she turned to Kate and said suddenly, Mother, if I don't get over this, will you take my baby? Kate looked at Polly intently. What she saw stopped the ready answer that was on her lips. She stood thinking deeply. At last she said gently, Why Polly, would you want to trust a tiny baby with a woman you ran away from yourself? Mother, I haven't asked you to forgive me for the light I put you in before the neighbours, said Polly. Because I know you couldn't honestly do it, and wouldn't lie to say you did. I don't know what made me do that. I was tired staying alone at the house so much. I was wild about Henry. I was bound I wouldn't leave him and go away to school. I just thought it would settle everything easily and quickly. I never once thought of how it would make you look and feel. Honestly, I didn't, Mother. You believe me, don't you? Yes, I believe you, said Kate. It was an awful thing for me to do, said Polly. I was foolish and crazy, and I suppose I shouldn't say it, but I certainly did have a lot of encouragement from the Peters family. They all seemed to think it would be a great joke, that it wouldn't make any difference, and all that, so I just did it. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but Mother, you will never know the fight I've had all my life to keep from telling stories and sneaking. I hated your everlasting, now be careful. But when I hated it most, I needed it worst. And I knew it, when I grew older. If only you had been here to say, now be careful, just once. I never would have done it. But of course I couldn't have you to keep me straight all my life. All I can say is that I would give my life and never whimper, if I could be back home as I was this time last year, and have a chance to do things your way. But that is past, and I can't change it. What I came for today, and what I want to know now is, if I go, will you take my baby? Polly, you know the Peters family wouldn't let me have it, said Kate. If it's a boy, they wouldn't want it, said Polly, neither would you, for that matter. If it's a girl, they will fight for it, but it won't do them any good. All I want to know is, will you take it? Of course I would, Polly, said Kate. Since I have your word, I will feel better, said Polly. And mother, you needn't be afraid of it. It will be all right. I have thought about it so much, I have it all figured out. It's going to be a girl, and it's going to be exactly like you, and its name is going to be Catherine Eleanor. I have thought about you every hour I was awake, since I have been gone, so the baby will have to be exactly like you. There won't be the taint of grandmother in it, that there is in me. You needn't be afraid. I quit sneaking forever when Adam told me what I had done to you. Have gone straight as a dark mother, every single minute since. Mother, truly I have. Kate sat down suddenly, and awful sickness in her heart. Why, you poor child, you, she said. Oh, I have been all right, said Polly. I have been almost petted and loved to death, but mother, there never should be the amount of work attached to living, that there is in that house. It's never ending, it's intolerable. Mrs. Peters just goes until she drops, and then instead of sleeping, she lies awake planning some hard, foolish, unnecessary thing to do next. Maybe she can't stand it herself, but I'm tired out. I'm going to sit down, and not budge to do another stroke until after the baby comes, and then I'm going to cook Henry to rent a piece of land, and move to ourselves. Kate took heart. That will be fine, she cried. That will be the very thing, I will ask the boys to keep their eyes open for any chance for you. You needn't take any bother about it, said Polly, because that isn't what is going to happen. All I want to be sure of now is that you and Adam will take my baby. I will see to the rest. How will you see to it, Polly? Ask Kate gently. Well, it's already seen to, for a matter of that, said Polly conclusively. I have known for quite a while that I was sick, but I couldn't make them do anything but kiss me and laugh at me, until I am so ill that I know better how I feel than anybody else. I got tired being laughed at and put off about everything. So one day in Hartley, while Mother Peters was shopping, I just went in to the lawyer where grandmother always went to, and told him all about what I wanted. He has the papers made out all right and proper, so when I send for Uncle Robert, I'm going to send for him too, and soon as the baby comes, I will put in its name and sign it and make Henry, and then if I have to go, you won't have a bit of trouble. Kate gazed at Polly in dumb amazement. She was speechless for a time. Then to break the strain, she said, My soul, did you really, Polly? I guess there is more baits in you than I had thought. Oh, there is some baits in me, said Polly. There is enough to make me live until I sign that paper, and make Henry Peters sign it, and send Mr. Tomlans to you, with it and the baby. I can't do that, because I'm going to. Ten days later, she did exactly what she had said she would. Then she turned her face to the wall and went into a convulsion out of which she never came. While the Peters family refused Kate's plea to lay Polly beside her grandmother, and laid her in their family lot, Kate, mourning dumbly, said, clasping a tiny red girl in her arms. Adam drove to Hartley to deposit one more paper, the most precious of all, in the safety deposit box. Kate and Adam mourned too deeply to talk about it. They went about their daily rounds silently, each busy, with regrets and self-investigations. They watched each other carefully, were kinder than they ever had been, to everyone they came in contact with, the baby they frankly adored. Kate had reared her own children with small misgivings, quite casually in fact, but her heart was torn to the depth about this baby. Life never would be even what it had been before Polly left them, for into her going there entered an element of self-reproach and continual self-condemnation. Adam felt that if he had been less occupied with Millie York, and had taken proper care of his sister, he would not have lost her. Kate had less time for recommendation, because she had the baby. Look for a good man to help you this summer, Adam. She said, the baby is full of poison, which can be eliminated only slowly. If I don't get it out before teething, I will lose her, and then we never shall hear the loss from the Peters family. Adam consigned the Peters family to a location he thought suitable for them on the instant. He spoke with unusual bitterness, because he had heard that the Peters family were telling that Polly had grieved herself to death, while his mother had engineered a scheme whereby she had stolen the baby. Occasionally a world drifted to Kate here and there, until she realized much of what they were saying. At first she grieved too deeply to pay any attention, but as the summer went on, and the baby flourished and grew fine and strong, and she had time in the garden, she began to feel better. Grief began to wear away, as it always does. By mid-summer the baby was in short clothes, sitting in a high chair, which if Miss Baby only had known it, was a throne before which knelt her two adoring subjects. Polly had said the baby would be like Kate. Its hair and coloring were like hers, but it had the brown eyes of its father, and enough of his facial lines to tone down the two generous baits features. When the baby was five months old, it was too pretty for adequate description. One baby has no business with perfect features. A mob of curly yellow silk hair and big brown eyes, one of the questions Kate and Adam discussed most frequently was where they would send her to college. While one they did not discuss was how sick her stomach teeth would make her, they merely lived in mortal dread of that. Adition was a word that held a terror for Kate above any other in the medical books. The baby had a good formal name, but no one ever used it. Adam, on first lifting the blanket, had fancied the child resembled its mother, and had called her Little Pole. The name clung to her. Kate could not call such a tiny morsel, either Kate or Catherine. She liked Little Pole better. Baby had three regular visitors. One was her father. He was not fond of Kate. Little Pole suited him. He expressed his feelings by bringing gifts of toys, candy, and unsuitable clothes. Kate kept these things in evidence when she saw him coming, and swept them from sight when he went, for she had the good sense not to antagonize him. Nancy Allen came almost every day, proudly driving her new car, and was the light of a new joy on her face. She never said anything to Kate, but Kate knew what had happened. Nancy Allen came to see the baby. She brought it lovely and delicate little shoes, embroidered dresses and hoods, clocks and blankets. One day, as she sat holding it, she said to Kate, Isn't the baby a dreadful brother to you? You are not getting half your usual work done. No, I am doing unusual work, said Kate lightly. Adam is hiring a man. Who does my work very well in the fields? There isn't money that would hire me to let anyone else take my job indoors right now. A slow red crept into Nancy Allen's cheeks. She had meant to be diplomatic, but diplomacy never worked well with Kate. As Nancy Allen often said, Kate understood a sledgehammer better. Nancy Allen used a hammer, her face flushed, her arms closed tightly. Give me this baby, she demanded. Kate looked at her in helpless amazement. Give it to me, repeated Nancy Allen. She is a gift to me, said Kate slowly. One the Peters family are searching heaven and earth to find an excuse to take from me. I hear they have been to a lawyer twice already. I wouldn't give her up to save my soul alive for myself. For you, if I would let you have her, they would not leave you in possession a day. Are they really trying to get her, asked Nancy Allen, slowly loosening her grip. They are, said Kate. They sent a lawyer to get a copy of the papers to see if they could pick a flow in them. Can they? cried Nancy Allen. God knows, said Kate slowly. I hope not, Mr. Tomlens is the best lawyer in Hartley. He says not. He says Henry put his neck in the noose when he signed the papers. The only chance I can see for him would be to plead undue influence. When you look at her, you can't blame him for wanting her. I have two hopes. One that his mother will not want the extra work. The other that the next girl he selects will not want the baby. If I can keep them going a few months more, with a teething scare, I hope they will get over wanting her. If they do, then may we have her, asked Nancy Allen. Kate threw out her hands. Take my eyes, or my hands, or my feet, she said, but leave me my heart. Nancy Allen went soon after and did not come again for several days. Then she began coming as usual, so that the baby soon knew her and loved in high glee when she appeared. Dr. Gray often stopped in passing to see her. If he was in great haste, he hallowed at the gate to ask if she was all right. Kate was thankful for this. More than thankful for the telephone and car that would bring him in fifteen minutes, day or night, if he were needed. But he was not needed. Little pole, Throve and grew fat and rosy. For she ate, measured food, slept by the clock in a sanitary bed, and was a vast splendid, cared-for baby. When Kate's family and friends laughed, she paid not the slightest heed. Laugh away, she said, I have got something to fight with this baby. I don't propose for the battle to come and find the chances against me, because I am unprepared. With scrupulous care, Kate watched over the child, always putting her first, the house and land afterward. One day she looked up the road, and saw Henry Peter's coming. She had been expecting Nancy Allen. She had finished bathing the baby. And making her especially attractive in a dainty, lace ruffled dress with blue ribbons and blue shoes that her sister had brought on her latest trip. Little pole was a wonderful picture. For her eyes were always growing bigger, her cheeks pinker, her skin fairer, her hair longer and more softly curling. At first thought, Kate had been inclined to snatch off the dress and change to one of the cheap, ready-made guineams Henry brought. But the baby was so lovely as she was, she had not the heart to spoil the picture. Well Nancy Allen might come any minute, so she began putting things in place, while little pole sat crowing and trying to pick up a sunbeam that fell across her tray. Her father came to the door and stood looking at her. Suddenly he dropped in a chair, covered his face, with his hands and began to cry in deep, shuddering sobs. Kate stood still in wonderment, as lost she seated herself before him and said gently, Won't you tell me about it Henry? Henry struggled for self-control. He looked at the baby, longingly. Finally he said, It's pretty tough to give up a baby like that Mrs. Holt. She's my little girl. I wish God had struck my right hand with palsy. When I went to sign those papers. Oh no you don't Henry, said Kate, swavly. You wouldn't like to live the rest of your life a cripple. And is it any worse for me to have your girl, in spite of the real desires and dictates of your heart, than it was for you to have mine? And you didn't take the intelligent care of my girl, that I am taking of yours either. A doctor and a little right treatment at the proper time would have saved Polly to rear her own baby. But there is no use to go into that. I was waiting for Polly to come home on her own accord, as she left it. And while I waited, a poison crept into her system that took her. I never shall fear right about it, neither shall you. No, I should say I won't, said Henry emphatically. I never thought of anything being the matter with Polly, that wouldn't be all over when the baby came. I know you didn't Henry, said Kate. I know how much you would have done, and how gladly if you had known. There is no use going into that. We are both very much to blame. We must take our punishment. Now, what is this I hear about your having been to see lawyers and trying to find a way to set aside the adoption papers you signed? Let's have a talk, and see what we can arrive at. Tell me all about it. So Henry told Kate how he had loved Polly, how he felt guilty of her death, how he longed for and wanted her baby, how he had signed the paper, which Polly put before him so unexpectedly to humour her, because she was very ill, but he had not dreamed that she could die, how he did not feel that he should be bound by that signature now. Kate listened, with the deepest sympathy, assenting to most he said until he was silent. And she said, thinking a long time. At last she said, Henry, if you and Polly had waited until I came home and told me what you wanted and how you felt, I should have gotten her ready and given you a customary wedding and helped you to start a life that I think would have saved her to you and to me. That is past, but the fact remains, you are hurt over giving up the baby as you have. I am hurt over losing my daughter as I did. We are about even on the past, don't you think? I suppose we are, he said heavily. That being agreed, said Kate, let us look to the future. You want the baby now. I can guess how much, by how much I want her myself. I know your point of view. There are two others. One is mine and the other is the baby's. I feel that it is only right and just that I should have this little girl to replace the one you took from me, in a way far from complimentary to me. I feel that she is mine, because Polly told me the day she came to see me. How sick she had been, how she had begged for a doctor and been kissed and told there was nothing the matter with her. When she knew she was very ill, she gave the baby to me, and at that time she had been to see a lawyer and she had her papers all made out except the signatures and dates. Other Tomlans can tell you that, and you know that up to that time I had not seen Polly or had any communication with her. She simply was unnerved at the thought of trusting her baby to the care she had had. Kate was hitting hard and straight from the shoulder. The baby, busy with her sunbeam, jabbered unnoticed. When Polly died as she did, continued Kate, I knew that her baby would be full of the same poison that killed her and that it must be eliminated before it came time to cut her worst teeth. So I undertook the work and sleeping or waking I have been at it ever since. Now Henry, is there anyone at your house who would have figured this out and taken the time, pains and done work that I have? Is there? Mother raised six of us, he said defiantly. But she didn't die of diathesis giving birth to the first of you, said Kate. You were all big strong boys with a perfectly sound birthright. And your mother is now a much older warrior woman than she was then, and her hands are far too full every day as it is. If she knew how to handle the baby as I have, and was willing to add the work to her daily round, would you be willing to have her? I have three times her strength, while I consider that I have the first right. Then there is the baby's side of the question. I have had her through the worst, hardest part of babyhood. Is a custom to a fixed routine that you surely will concede agrees with her. She would miss me, and she would not thrive as she does with me. For her foot and her hours would not be regular, while you and your father and the boys would tire her to death handling her. That is the start. The finish would be that she would grow up, if she survived, to take the place that you truly took at your house, while you would marry some other girl, as you will before a year from now. I am dreadfully sorry to say these things to you, Henry, but you know they are the truth. If you are going to try to take the baby, I am going to fight you to the last dollar I can raise, and the last foot of land I own. That's all. Look at the baby, think it over, and let me know what you will do as soon as you can. I'm not asking mercy at your hands, but I do feel that I have suffered about my share. You needn't suffer any longer, said Henry, drawing his eyes. All you say is true, just as what I said was true. But I might as well tell you, and let one of us be happy. I saw my third lawyer yesterday, and he said the papers were unbreakable, unless I could prove that the child was neglected, and not growing right, or not having proper care. Look at her. I might do some things. I did do a thing as mean as to persuade a girl to marry me without her mother's knowledge, and ruined her life thereby. But God knows I couldn't go on the witness stand, and swear that, that baby is not properly cared for. Your job is big enough, and while it doesn't seem possible now, very likely I shall marry again, as other men do. And in that event, little Paul would be happier with you. I give her up. I think I came this morning to say that I was defeated, and to tell you that I'd give up if I saw that you would fight. Keep the baby, and be as happy as you can. You shan't be worried any more about her. Holy shall have this thing, as she desired and planted it. Goodbye. When he had gone, Kate knelt on the floor, led her head on the chair tray, and putting her arms around the baby, she laughed and cried at the same time. While Miss Baby pulled her hair, patted her face, and plastered it with wet, uncertain kisses. Then Kate tied a little bonnet on the baby's head, and taking her in her arms, she went to the field to tell Adam. It seemed to Kate that she could see responsibility, slipping from his shoulders, could see him grow taller as he listened. The breath of relief he drew was long and deep. Fine. He cried. Fine. I haven't told you half I knew. I have been worried until I couldn't sleep. Kate went back to the house. So glad she did not realize she was touching earth at all. She fed the baby, and laid her down for her morning nap, and then went out in the garden. But she was too restless to work. She walked bare-headed in the sun, and was glad as she never before in her life had known how to be glad. The first thing Kate knew, she was standing at the gate looking up at the noon-day sky, and from the depth of her heart she was crying aloud, Praise ye the Lord, O my soul, let all that is within me, praise his holy name. For the remainder of the day Kate was unblushingly insane. She started to do a hundred things, and abandoned all of them, to go out and look up at the sky, and to cry repeatedly, praise the Lord. If she had been asked to explain why she did this, Kate would have answered, and would have answered, because I feel like it. She had been taught no religion as a child. She has practiced no formal mode of worship as a woman. She had been straight, honest, and virtuous. She had faced life and done with small question the work that she thought fell to her hand. She had accepted joy, sorrow, shame, all in the same stoic way. Always she had felt that there was a mighty force in the universe that could as well be called God as any other name. It mattered not about the name. It was a real force, and it was there. That day Kate exalted. She carried the baby down to the brook in the afternoon, and almost shouted. She sang until she could have been heard a mile. She kept straight on praising the Lord, because expression was imperative, and that was the form of expression that seemed to come naturally to her. Not giving a thought as to how or why, she followed her impulses and praised the Lord. The happier she grew, the more clearly she saw how uneasy and frightened she had been. When Nancy Allen came, she took only one glance at Kate's glorified face, and asked, What in this word has happened to you? Kate answered in awe seriousness. My Lord has shut the lion's mouth, and they are not going to harm me. Nancy Allen regarded her closely. I hope you aren't running at temperature. She said, I'll take a shot at random. You have found out that the Peter's family can't take little pole. Kate laughed joyously. Better than that, sister mine. She cried. I have convinced Henry that he doesn't want her himself as much as he wants me to have her, and he can speedily convert his family. He will do nothing more. He will leave me in peace with her. Thank God, said Nancy Allen. There you go too, cried Kate. That's the very first thought that came to me. See I said praise the Lord, which is exactly the same thing. And Nancy Allen, since Robert has been trying to praise the Lord for twenty years, and both of us do praise him when our time comes, wouldn't it be a good idea to open up our heads and say so, not only to ourselves and to the Lord, but to the neighbors? I'm afraid she won't understand much of it. But I think I shall find the place and read to little pole about Abraham and Isaac tonight, and probably about Hoggar and Ismael tomorrow night, and it wouldn't surprise me amidst to hear myself saying praise the Lord right out loud any time, any place. Let's gather a great big bouquet of our loveliest flowers and go tell mother and pole about it. Without a word Nancy Allen turned toward the garden, they gathered the flowers and getting in Nancy Allen's car, drove the short distance to the church where Nancy Allen played with the baby in the shade of a big tree, while Kate arranged her flowers. Then she sat down and they took over their lives from childhood. Nancy Allen, won't you stay to supper with us? Asked Kate. Yes, said Nancy Allen, rising, I haven't had such a good time in years. I am as glad for you as I'd be if I had such a child assured me myself. You can't bring yourself? Began Kate. Yes, I think so, said Nancy Allen, getting things for little pole has broken me up so. I told Robert how I felt and his watching in his practice and his written several letters of inquiry to friends in Chicago, any day now I may have my work cut out for me. Praise the Lord again, cried Kate, I see where you will be happier than you ever have been. Real life is just beginning for you. Then they went home and prepared a good supper and had such a fine time, they were exalted in heart and spirit. When Nancy Allen started home, Kate took the baby and climbed in the car with her, explaining that they would go a short way and walk back. She went only as far as the Peter's gate. Then she bravely walked up to the porch where Mr. Peter's and some of the boys sat and said casually, I just thought I'd bring little pole up to get acquainted with her folks, isn't she a dear? An hour later, as she walked back in the moonlight, Henry beside her, carrying the baby, he said to her, this is a mighty big thing and a kind thing for you to do Mrs. Holt, mother has been saying scandalous things about you. I know, said Kate, but never mind, she won't anymore. The remainder of the week, she passed in the same uplifted mental state. She carried the baby in her arms and walked all over the farm, going often to the cemetery with fresh flowers. Sunday morning, when the work was all done, the baby dressed her prettiest, Kate slipped into one of her fresh white dresses and gathering a big bunch of flowers started again to whisper above the graves of her mother and Polly, the story of her gladness, and to freshen the flowers, so that the people coming from church would see that her family were remembered. When she had finished, she arose, took up the baby, and started to return across the cemetery, going behind the church, taking the path she had traveled the day she followed, the minister's admonition to take the wings of mourning. She thought of that, she stood very still, thinking deeply. I took them, she said, I have tried flight after flight, and I have fallen and risen and fallen, and got up and tried again. But never, until now, have I felt that I could really fly to the uttermost parts of the earth. There is a rising power in me that should benefit more than myself. I guess I will join in. She walked into the church, as the last word of the song the congregation were singing was finished, and the minister was opening his lips to say, Let us pray. Deep down the aisle came Kate, her bare, gold head, crowned with a flash of light at each window she passed. She posed at the altar, directly facing the minister. Baby and I would like the privilege of praising the Lord with you, she said simply. And we would like to do our share in keeping up this church and congregation to his honor and glory. There is some water, can't you baptize us now? The minister turned to the pitcher, which always stood on his desk, filled his palm, and asked, What is the baby's name? Catherine Eleanor Peters, said Kate. Catherine Eleanor, I baptize thee, said the minister, and he laid his hand on the soft curls of the baby. She scattered the flowers she was holding over the altar, as she reached to spat her hands in the water on her head and laughed aloud. What is your name? Asked the minister. Catherine Eleanor Holt, said Kate. Again, the minister repeated the formula. And then he raised both hands and said, Let us pray. Chapter 26 of A Daughter of the Land. This is the LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Maria Fatima de Silva. A Daughter of the Land by Jean Stratton Porter. The Winged Victory. Kate turned and placing the baby on the front seat. She knelt and put her arms around the little thing, but her lips only repeated the words. Praise the Lord for this precious baby. Her heart was filled with high resolve. She would rear the baby with such care. She would be more careful with Adam. She would make heroic effort to help him to clean unashamed manhood. She would be a better sister to all her family. She would be friendlier and have more patience with the neighbors. She would join in whatever effort the church was making to hold and increase its membership among the young people and to raise funds to keep up the organization. All the time her mind was busy thinking out these fine resolves. Her lips were thanking the Lord for little Paul. Kate arose with a benediction, picked up the baby and started down the aisle among the people she had known all her life. On every side strong hands stretched out to greet and welcome her. A daughter of Adam Bates was something new as a church member. They all knew how she could work and what she could give if she chose. While that she had stood at the altar and been baptized meant that something not customary with the Bates family was taking place in her heart. So they welcomed her and praised the beauty and sweetness of the baby until Kate went out into the sunshine, her face glowing. Slowly she walked home and as she reached the veranda, Adam took the baby. Being to the cemetery, he asked, Kate nodded and dropped into a chair. That's too far to walk and carry this great big woman, he said, snuggling his face in the baby's neck, while she patted his cheeks and pulled his hair. Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go and let me get out the car? Kate looked at him speculatively. Adam, she said, when I started out, I meant only to take some flowers to mother and Polly, as I came around the corner of the church to take the footpath. They were singing, rejoice in the Lord. I went inside and joined. I'm going to church as often as I can after this, and I'm going to help with the work of running it. Well, I like that, cried Adam indignantly. Why didn't you let me go with you? Kate sat staring down the road. She was shocked speechless. Again, she had followed an impulse without thinking of anyone besides herself. Usually she could talk, but in that instant she had nothing to say. Then the carriage drew into the line of her vision, stopped at York's gate, and Mr York alighted and swung to the ground a slim girlish figure and then helped his wife. Kate had a certain inspiration, but you would want to wait a little and join with Millie, wouldn't you? she asked. And Cool Robert always has been a church member. I think it's a fine stand for a man to take. Maybe that would be better, he said. I didn't think of Millie. I only thought I'd like to have been with you a little Paul. I'm sure Millie will be joining very soon and that she'll want you with her, said Kate. She was a very substantial woman, but for the remainder of that day, she felt that she was moving with winged feet. She sang, she laughed, she was unspeakably happy. She kept saying over and over, and a little child shall lead them. Then she would catch little Paul almost crushing her in her strong arms. It never occurred to Kate that she had done an unprecedented thing. She had done as her heart dictated. She did not know that she put the minister into a most uncomfortable position when he followed her request to baptize her and the child. She had never thought of probations and examinations and catechisms. She had read the Bible, as was the custom, every morning before her school. In that book, when a man wanted to follow Jesus, he followed. Jesus accepted him, and that was all there was to it with Kate. The middle of the week, Nassie Ellen came flying up the walk on winged feet herself. She carried photographs of several small children, one of them a girl so like little Paul that she might have been the original of the picture. They just came, said Nassie Ellen rather breathlessly. I was wild for that little darling at once. I had Robert telegraph them to hold her until we could get there. We're going to start on the evening train and if her blood seems good and her ancestors respectable and she looks like that picture, we're going to bring her back with us. Oh Kate, I can scarcely wait to get my fingers on her. I'm hungry for the baby all of my own. Kate studied the picture. She's charming, she said. Oh Nassie Ellen, this world is getting entirely too good to be true. Nassie Ellen looked at Kate and smiled peculiarly. I knew you were crazy, she said, but I never dreamed of you going such lengths. Mrs. Whistler told Robert when she called him in about her side, Tuesday, I can't imagine a date joining church. If that is joining church, it's the easiest thing in the world, said Kate. We just love doing it, didn't we little Paul? Adam and Millie are going to come in soon, I'm almost sure. At least he is willing. I don't know what it is that I am to do, but I suppose they will give me my work soon. You bet they'll give you work soon and in death, said Nassie Ellen, laughing. But you won't mind, you'll just put it through as you do things out here. Kate, you are making this place look fine. I used to say I'd rather die than come back here to live, but lately it has been growing so attractive. I've been here about half my time and wished I were the other half. Kate slipped her arm around Nassie Ellen as they walked to the gate. You know, said Nassie Ellen, the more I study you, the less I know about you. Usually it's sickness and sorrow and losing their friends that bring people to the consolations of the church. You bore those things like a stoic, when they are all over and you are comfortable and happy, just the joy of being sure of little Paul has transformed you. Kate, you make me think of the winked victory this afternoon. If I get this darling little girl, will she make me big and splendid and fine like you? Kate suddenly drew Nassie Ellen to her and kissed her a long, hard kiss on the lips. Nassie Ellen, she said, you are big and splendid and fine, or you never would be going to Chicago after this little motherless child. You haven't said a word, but I know from the joy of you and Robert during the past months that Mrs. Southey isn't troubling you anymore. And I'm sure enough to put it into words that when you get your little child, she will lead you straight where mine has led me. Goodbye and good luck to you and remember me to Robert. Nassie Ellen stood intently studying the picture she held in her hand. Then she looked at Kate, smiling with misty eyes. I think Kate, I'm very close. If I am not really where you are this minute, she said. Then she started her car, but she looked back, waving and smiling until the car swerved so that Kate called after her. Do drive carefully, Nassie Ellen. Kate went slowly up the walk. She stopped several times to examine the shrubs and bushes closely to wish for rain for the flowers. She sat on the porch a few minutes, talking to little Paul. Then she went inside to answer the phone. Kate cried a sharp voice. Yes, said Kate, recognizing a neighbor, living a few miles down the road. Didn't Nassie Ellen just leave your house? Came a breathless query. Yes, said Kate again. I just saw a car that looked like hers, slipping the fresh sand at the river Levy. And it went down and two or three times over. Oh, God, said Kate, then after an instant. Ring the dinner bell for your man to get her out. I'll phone Robert and come as soon as I can get there. Kate called Dr. Gray's office. She said to the girl, tell the doctor that Mrs. Howe thinks she saw Nassie Ellen's car go down the river Levy and two or three times over. Have him bring what he might need to house and hurry, rush him. Then she ran to her bell and rang so frantically that Adam came running. Kate was at the little garage they had built and had the door open. She told him what she had heard. Run to get the baby and met him at the gate. On the way, she said, you take the baby when we get there. And if I'm needed, take her back and get Milly and her mother to come stay with you. You know where her things are and how to feed her. Don't you dare let them change any way I do. Baby knows Milly. She will be good for her and for you. You'll be careful. Of course, mother, said Adam. He called her attention to the road. Look at those tracks, he said. Was she sick? She might have been drunk from them. No, said Kate. She wasn't sick. She was drunk, drunken with joy. She had a picture of the most beautiful little baby girl they were to start to Chicago after her tonight. I suspect she was driving with a picture in one hand. Oh my God, have mercy. They had come to deep grooves in loose gravel. Then the cut in the embankment. Then they could see the wrecked car standing on the engine and lying against a big tree near the water while two men and a woman were carrying a limp form across the meadow toward the house. As their car stopped, Kate kissed the baby mechanically, handed her to Adam and ran into the house where she dragged a couch to the middle of the first room she entered, found a pillow and brought a bucket of water and a towel from the kitchen. They carried Nancy Ellen in and laid her down. Kate began unfastening clothing and trying to get the broken body in shape for the doctor to work upon. But she spread the towel over what had been a face of unusual beauty. Robert came in a few minutes, then all of them worked under his directions until he suddenly sank to the floor, bearing his face in Nancy Ellen's breast. Then they knew Kate gathered her sister's feet in her arms and hid her face beside them. The neighbors silently began taking away things that had been used while Mrs. Howe chose her whitest sheet and laid it on a chair near Robert. Two days later, they laid Nancy Ellen beside her mother. Then they began trying to face the problem of life without her. Robert said nothing. He seemed too stunned to think. Kate wanted to tell him of her final visit with Nancy Ellen, but she could not at that time. Robert's aged mother came to him and said she could remain as long as he wanted her. So that was a comfort to Kate, who took time to pity him, even in her blackest hour. She had some very black ones. She could have wailed and lamented and relinquished all she had gained, but she did not. She merely went on with life as she always had lived it. To the best of her ability, when she was so numbed with grief, she scarcely knew what she was doing. She kept herself driven about the house and when she could find no more to do, took little Paul in her arms and went out in the fields to Adam where she found the baby a safe place and then cut and husked corn as usual. Every Sabbath and often during the week, her feet carried her to the cemetery where she sat in the deep grass and looked at those three long mounds and tried to understand life. Deeper still to fathom death. She and her mother had agreed that there was something. Now Kate tried as never before to understand what and where and why that something was. Many days she would sit for an hour at a time thinking and at last she arrived at fixed convictions that settled matters forever with her. One day after she had arranged the four roses she had grown and some roadside asters she had gathered in passing. She sat in deep thought when a car stopped on the road. Kate looked up to see Robert coming across the church yard with his arms full of greenhouse roses. He carried a big bunch of deep red for her mother, white for Polly and a large sheaf of warm pink for Nancy Allen. Kate knelt up and taking her flowers, she moved them lower and silently helped Robert place those he had brought. Then she sat where she had been and looked at him. Finally he asked, still hunting the why Kate? Why doesn't so much matter said Kate as where? I'm enough of a fatalist to believe that mother is here because she was old and worn out. Polly had a clear case of uric poison. While I'd stake my life, Nancy Allen was gloating over the picture she carried when she ran into that loose sand. In each of their cases I am satisfied as to why as well as about father. The thing that holds me and fascinates me and that I have such a time being sure of is where? Robert glanced upward and asked, isn't there room enough up there Kate? Too much said Kate and what is the soul and how can it bridge the vortex lying between us and other worlds that man never can because of the lack of air to breathe and support him? I don't know said Robert and in spite of the fact that I do know what a man cannot do, I still believe in the immortality of the soul. Oh yes said Kate, if there is any such thing in science as a self evident fact that is one, that is provable. Robert looked at her eager face. How would you go about proving it Kate? He asked, why this way said Kate, leaning to straighten and arrange the delicate velvet petaled roses with her sure work abused fingers. Take the history of the world from as near dawn as we have any record and trace it from the igloo of the Northmost Eskimo around the globe and down to the ice of the Southern Pole again and in blackest Africa furthest wildest Borneo, you will never discover one single tribe of creatures upright and belonging to the race of man who did not come into the world with four primal instincts. They all reproduce themselves. They all make something intended for music. They all express a feeling in their hearts by the exercise we call dance. They all believe in the afterlife of the soul. This belief is as much a part of any man ever born in any location as his hand on his feet. Whether he believes his soul enters a cat and works back to man again after long transmigration or goes to a happy hunting ground as our Indians makes no difference with the fact that he enters this world with belief in afterlife of some kind. We see material evidence in increase that man is not defeated in his desire to reproduce himself. We have advanced to something better than tom-toms and powwows for music and dance. These desires are fulfilled before us. Now tell me why the very strongest of all, the most deeply rooted, the belief in afterlife should come to nothing. Why should the others be real and not a dream? I don't think it is said, Robert. It's my biggest self-evident fact said Kate conclusively. I never heard anyone else say these things, but I think them and they are provable. I always believed there was something, but since I saw mother go, I know there is. She stood in full evening light. I looked straight in her face and Robert, you know, I'm no creature fancies and delusions. I tell you, I saw her soul pass. I saw the life go from her and go on and on. I saw her body stand erect long enough for me to reach her and pick her up after it's passing. That I know. I shouldn't think of questioning it, Kate said, Robert. But don't you think you are a rather limiting man when you narrow him to four primal instincts? Oh, I don't know, said Kate. Air to breathe and food to sustain are presupposed. Man learns to fight in self-defense and to acquire what he covets. He learns to carve it by seeing stronger men in better locations surpass his achievements. So if he is strong enough, he goes and robs them by force. He learns the desire for the chase in food hunting. I think four are plenty to start with. Probably you were right, said the doctor rising. I must go now. Shall I take you home? Kate glanced at the sun and shook her head. I can stay half an hour longer. I don't mind the walk. I need exercise to keep me in condition. Goodbye. As he started his car, he glanced back. She was leaning over the flowers absorbed in their beauty. Kate sat looking straight before her until time to help with the evening work and prepare supper then she arose. She stood looking down a long time. Finally she picked up a fine specimen of each of the roses and slowly dropped them on her father's grave. There you may have that many, she said. You look a little too lonely, lying here beside the others with not a single one. But if you could speak, I wonder whether you would say thank you or take the damn weeds off me. End of chapter 26. Chapter 27 of A Daughter of the Land. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Campbell Shelp. A Daughter of the Land by Jean Stratton Porter. Chapter 27, Blue Ribbon Corn. Never in her life had Kate worked harder than she did that fall, but she retained her splendid health. Everything was sheltered and housed, their implements under cover, their stock in good condition, their storeroom filled, and their fruits and vegetables buried in hills and long rows in the garden. Adam had a first wheat premium at the county fair and a second on corn, concerning which he felt abused. He thought his corn scored the highest number of points, but that the award was given another man because of Adams having had first on wheat. In her heart Kate agreed with him, but she tried to satisfy him with the Blue Ribbon on wheat and keep him interested sufficiently to try for the first on corn the coming year. She began making suggestions for the possible improvement of his corn. Adam was not easily propitiated. Mother, he said, you know as well as you know you're alive that if I had failed on wheat or had second I would have been given first on my corn. My corn was the best in every way, but they thought I would swell up and burst if I had two Blue Ribbons. That was what ailed the judges. What encouragement is that to try again? I might grow even finer corn in the coming year than I did this and be given no award at all because I had two this year. It would amount to exactly the same thing. We'll get some more books and see if we can study up any new wrinkles this winter, said Kate. Now cheer up and go tell Milly about it. Maybe she can console you if I can't. Nothing but justice will console me, said Adam. I'm not complaining about losing the prize. I'm fighting mad because my corn, my beautiful corn that grew and grew and held its head so high and waved its banners of triumph to me with every breeze didn't get its fair show. What encouragement is there for it to try better the coming year? The crows might as well have had it or the cutworms while all my work is for nothing. You're making a big mistake, said Kate. If your corn was the finest it was and the judges knew it and you know it and very likely the man who has the first prize knows it. You have a clean conscience and you know what you know. They surely can't feel right about it or enjoy what they know. You have had the experience, you have the corn for seed with these things to back you, clear a small strip of new land beside the woods this winter and try what that will do for you. Adam looked at her with wide eyes. By Jane, mother, you are a dandy, he said. You've just bet I'll try that next year but don't you tell a soul there are more than you who will let a strip be cleared in an effort to grow blue ribbon corn. How did you come to think of it? You're saying all your work had been for nothing made me think of it, she answered. Let them give another man the prize when they know your corn is the best. It's their way of keeping a larger number of people interested and avoiding the appearance of partiality. This contest was too close. Next year you grow such corn that the corn will force the decision in spite of the judges. Do you see? I see, said Adam, I'll try again. After that, life went on as usual. The annual Christmas party was the loveliest of all because Kate gave its loving thought and because all of their hearts were especially touched. As spring came on again, Kate and Adam studied over their work planning many changes for the better but each time they talked when everything else was arranged they came back to corn. More than once each of them dreamed corn that winter while asleep. They frankly talked of it many times a day. Location, soil, fertilizers, seed, cultivation they even studied the almanacs for a general forecast of the weather. These things brought them very close together. Also it was admitted between them that little pole grappled them with hooks of steel. They never lacked subjects for conversation. Paul always came first, corn next and during the winter there began to be discussions of plans for Adam and Millie. Should Millie come with them or should they build a small house on the end of the farm nearest her mother? Adam did not care so he married Millie speedily. Kate could not make up her mind. Millie had the inclination of a bird for a personal and private nest of her own so spring came to them. August brought the anniversary of Nancy Ellen's death which again saddened all of them. Then came cooler September weather and the usual rush of preparation for winter. Kate was everywhere and enjoying her work immensely. On sturdy, tumbling legs, little Paul trotted after her or rode in state on her shoulder when distances were too far. If Kate took her to the fields as she did every day, she carried along the half of an old pink and white quilt which she spread in a shaded place and filled the baby's lap with acorns, wild flowers, small brightly colored stones, shells and whatever she could pick up for play things. Paul amused herself with these until the heat and air made her sleepy. Then she laid herself down and slept for an hour or two. Once she had trouble with stomach teeth that brought Dr. Gray racing and left Kate white and limp with fear. Everything else had gone finely and among helping Adam, working in her home, caring for the baby, doing whatever she could see that she thought would be of benefit to the community and what was assigned to her by church committees, Kate had a busy life. She had earned in a degree the leadership she exercised in her first days in Walden. Everyone liked her but no one ever ventured to ask her for an opinion unless they truly wanted it. Adam came from Orion to Hartley for groceries one evening in late September with a look of concern that Kate noticed on his face. He was very silent during supper and when they were on the porch as usual, he still sat as if thinking deeply. Kate knew that he would tell her what he was thinking about when he was ready but she was not in the least prepared for what he said. Mother, how do you feel about Uncle Robert's marrying again? He asked suddenly. Kate was too surprised to answer. She looked at him in amazement. Instead of answering, she asked him a question. What makes you ask that? You know how that Mrs. Southie pursued him one summer. Well, she's back in Hartley staying at the hotel right across from his office. She's dressed to beat the band. She's pretty as a picture. Her car stands out in front all day and to get to ride in it and to take meals with her, all the women are running after her. I hear she has even had Robert's old mother out for a drive. What do you think of that? I think she's in love with him, of course, and trying to marry him and that she will very probably succeed. If she has located where she is right under his eye and lets him know that she wants him very much, he'll no doubt marry her. But what do you think about it? Asked Adam. I've had no time to think, said Kate. At first blush, I'd say that I shall hate it as badly as I could possibly hate anything that was none of my immediate business. Nancy Ellen loved him so. I never shall forget that day she first told me about him and how loving him brought out her beauty and made her shine and glow as if from an inner light. I was always with her most and I loved her more than all the other girls put together. I know that Southie woman tried to take him from her one summer not long ago and that he gave her to understand that she could not so she went away. If she's back, it means only one thing and I think probably she'll succeed but you can be sure it will make me squirm properly. I thought you wouldn't like it, he said emphatically. Now understand me Adam, said Kate. I'm no fool. I didn't expect Robert to be more than human. He has no children and he'd like a child above anything else on earth. I've known that for years. Ever since it became a parent that none was coming to Nancy Ellen. I hadn't given the matter a thought but if I had been thinking I would have thought that as soon as was proper he would select a strong, healthy young woman and make her his wife. I know his mother is homesick and wants to go back to her daughters and their children which is natural. I haven't an objection in the world to him marrying a proper woman at a proper time and place but oh dear Lord, I do dread and despise to see that little Southie cat come back and catch him because she knows how. Did you ever see her mother? No, I never said Kate and I hope I never shall. I know what Nancy Ellen felt because she told me all about it that time we were up north. I'm trying with all my might to have a Christian spirit. I swallowed Mrs. Peters and never blinked that anybody saw but I don't, I truly don't know from where I could muster grace to treat a woman decently who tried to do to my sister. What I know Mrs. Southie tried to do to Nancy Ellen. She planned to break up my sister's home that I know. Now that Nancy Ellen is gone I feel tonight as if I just couldn't endure to see Mrs. Southie Mary Robert. Bet she does it, said Adam. Did you see her, asked Kate. See her, cried Adam. I saw her half a dozen times in an hour. She's in the heart of the town, nothing to do but dress and motor. Never saw such a peach of a car. I couldn't help looking at it. Gee, I wish I could get you one like that. What did you think of her looks, asked Kate. Might pretty, said Adam promptly. Small but not tiny, plump but not fat. Pink, light curls, big baby blue eyes and a sort of hesitating way about her as if she were anxious to do the right thing but feared she might not and wished somebody would take care of her. Kate threw out her hands with a rough exclamation. I get the picture, she said. It's a dead center shot. That gets a man every time. No man cares to pick a you about a woman who can take care of herself and help him with his job if he has a ghost of a chance at a little pink and white clinger who will suck the life and talent out of him like the parasite she is while she makes him believe he is on the job taking care of her. You can rest assured it will be settled before Christmas. Kate had been right in her theories concerning the growing of blue ribbon corn. At the county fair in late September, Adam exhibited such heavy ears of evenly grained white and yellow corn that the blue ribbon he carried home was not an award of the judges. It was a concession to the just demands of the exhibit. Then they began husking their annual crop. It had been one of the country's best years for corn. The long, even golden ears they were stripping the husks from and stacking in heaps over the field might profitably have been used for seed by any farmer. They had divided the field in halves and Adam was husking on one side Kate the other. She had a big shock open and kneeling beside it. She was busy stripping open the husks and heaping up the yellow ears. Beside her the shocks stood like rows of stationed sentinels. Above the crisp October sunshine warmed the air to a delightful degree. Around the field the fence rows were filled with purple and rose-coloured asters and everywhere goldenrod, yellower than the corn was hanging in heavy heads of pollen-spraying bloom. On her old pink quilt little Paul, sound asleep, was lifted from the shade of one shock to another while Kate worked across her share of the field. As she worked she kept looking at the child. She frankly adored her but she kept her reason and held to rigid rules and feeding, bathing and dressing. Paul minded even a gesture or a nod. Above the flocking larks pierced the air with silver notes. On the fence rows the gathering robins called to each other. High in the air the old black vulture that homed in a hollow log in Kate's woods looked down on the spots of colour made by the pink quilt, the gold corn, the blue of Kate's dress and her yellow head. An artist would have paused long over the rich colour, the grouping and perspective of that picture while the hazy fall atmosphere softened and blended the whole. Kate herself never had appeared or felt better. She worked rapidly, often glancing across the field to see if she was even with or slightly in advance of Adam. She said it would never do to let the boy get heady so she made a point of keeping even with him and caring for little Paul for good measure. She was smiling as she watched him working like a machine as he ripped open husks, gave the ear a twist, tossed it aside and reached for the next. Kate was doing the same thing quite as automatically. She was beginning to find the afternoon sun almost hot on her bare head so she turned until it fell on her back. Her face was flushed to coral pink and framed in a loose border of her beautiful hair. She was smiling at the thought of how Adam was working to get ahead of her. Smiling because little Paul looked such a picture of healthy loveliness. Smiling because she was so well. She felt super abundant health rising like a stimulating tide in her body. Smiling because the corn was the finest she ever had seen in a commonly cultivated field. Smiling because she and Adam were of one accord about everything. Smiling because the day was very beautiful. Because her heart was at peace, her conscience clear. She heard a car stop at her gate, saw a man alight and start across the yard toward the field and knew that her visitor had seen her and was coming to her. Kate went on husking corn and when the man swung over the fence of the field she saw that he was Robert and instantly thought of Mrs. Southey so she ceased to smile. I've got a big notion to tell him what I think of him. She said to herself even as she looked up to greet him. Instantly she saw that he had come for something. What is it? She asked. Agatha, he said. She's been having some severe heart attacks lately and she just gave me a real scare. Instantly Kate forgot everything except Agatha whom she cordially liked and Robert who appeared older, more tired and worried than she had ever seen him. She thought Agatha had given him a real scare and she decided that it scarcely would have been bad enough to put lines in his face she had never noticed before. Dark circles under his eyes, a look of weariness in his bearing. She doubted as she looked at him if he were really courting Mrs. Southey. Even as she thought of these things she was asking she's better now. Yes, easier but she suffered terribly. Adam was upset completely. Adam, 3D and Susan and their families are away from home and won't be back for a few days unless I sent for them. They went to Ohio to visit some friends. I stopped to ask if it would be possible for you to go down this evening and sleep there so that if there did happen to be a recurrence Adam wouldn't be alone. Of course, said Kate glancing at the baby. I'll go right away. No need for that, he said. If you'll arrange to stay with Adam tonight as a precaution, you needn't go till bedtime. I'm going back after supper to put them in shape for the night. I'm almost sure she'll be all right now but you know how frightened we can get about those we love. Yes, I know, said Kate quietly going straight on ripping open ear after ear of corn. Presently she wondered why he did not go. She looked up at him and met his eyes. He was studying her intently. Kate was vividly conscious in an instant of her bare-wind teased head, her husking gloves. She was not at all sure that her face was clean. She smiled at him and picking up the sun-bonnets lying beside her, she wiped her face with the skirt. If the sun hits too long on the same spot, it grows warm, she told him. Kate, I do wish you wouldn't, he exclaimed abruptly. Kate was too forthright for sparring. Why not, she asked. For one thing, you are doing a man's work, he said. For another, I hate to see you burn the loveliest hair I ever saw on the head of a woman and coarsen your fine skin. Kate looked down at the ear of corn she held in her hands and considered an instant. There hasn't any man been around asking to relieve me of this work, she said. I got my start in life doing a man's work and I'm frank to say that I'd far rather do it any day than what is usually considered a woman's. As for my looks, I never set a price on them or let them interfere with business, Robert. No, I know you don't, he said, but it's a pity to spoil you. I don't know what's the matter with you, said Kate patiently. She bent her head toward him. Feel, she said, and see if my hair isn't soft and fine. I always cover it in really burning sun. This autumn haze is good for it. My complexion is exactly as smooth and even now as it was the day I first met you on the foot log over 20 years ago. There's one good thing about the Bates woman. They wear well. None of us yet have ever faded and frazzled out. Have you got many heartily women doing what you call woman's work to compare with me physically, Robert? You know the answer to that, he said. So I do, said Kate. I see some of them occasionally when business calls me that way. Now Robert, I'm so well. I feel like running a foot race the first thing when I wake up every morning. I'm making money. I'm starting my boy in a safe, useful life. Have you many year and a half babies in your practice that can beat little Paul? I'm as happy as it's humanly possible for me to be without mother and Polly and Nancy Allen. Mother used always to say that when death struck a family it seldom stopped until it took three. That was my experience and saving Adam and little Paul. It took my three dearests but the separation isn't going to be so very long. If I were you, I wouldn't worry about me, Robert. There are many women in the world willing to pay for your consideration. Save it for them. Kate, I'm sorry I said anything, he said hastily. I wouldn't offend you purposely, you know. Kate looked at him in surprise. But I'm not offended. She said snapping an ear and reaching for another. I am merely telling you. Don't give me a thought, I'm all right. If you'll save me an hour the next time little Paul has a tooth coming through you'll have completely earned my gratitude. Tell Agatha I'll come as soon as I finish my evening work. That was clearly a dismissal. For Kate glancing across the field toward Adam saw that he had advanced to a new shock so she began husking faster than before. End of chapter 27. Recording by Campbell Shelp.