was completely drawn away
from the consideration of the motives of others by her struggle with the
elemental forces in which she found herself engulfed. The temper aroused
by John's objection to her Thanksgiving company had indications in spite
of the fact that she had controlled it. Elizabeth knew that she had but
barely kept her speech within the limits of kindliness and consideration
for Mrs. Hunter, who had not wished to frustrate her plans at all, and she
knew that she would be less likely to do so if the offence were repeated.
She knew that Mrs. Hunter tried with real honesty of purpose to keep on
good terms with her, and yet she also knew that she was increasingly
annoyed with whatever she did. There was an element of unfairness in her
attitude toward the older woman which alarmed her.

"I'm just like pa, after all," she thought as she swung her feet and
looked in a troubled way down at the frozen stream below.

Elizabeth reflected that when Aunt Susan, or Silas, or Luther Hansen came
into the house she became instantly her own buoyant, optimistic self: not
that she intentionally feigned such feelings for the benefit of her
company, but she felt the presence of trust, of faith in herself and her
powers. She did not recognize that such trust was necessary to the
unfoldment of character, nor even that it was her birthright.

The girl watched the gathering twilight and deliberately let the time pass
without attempting to return to the house until compelled to do so by real
darkness, realizing that some beneficial thing was happening in her in
this free out-of-doors place, for she was less annoyed and more analytical
with each breath she drew in it.

"If only I'd take time to do this sort of thing I'd be more as I ought to
be," she meditated when she had at last risen to go home. "I won't be like
pa! I won't! I won't!" she reiterated many times as she walked back, over
the frozen cow-path. "I'll come here every few days. Ma and pa were born
to be happy, only they never took time to be."

And though John was cross because the baby had cried in her absence,
Elizabeth felt that she had been helped by getting away from him. She
accepted her husband's reproaches without reply, and was able to forget
them even while they were still issuing from his mouth. She kept her
temper down all that week, and though the Thanksgiving invitations were
not sent, she cooked the dinner and put as many hours into its concoction
as if