ome way she
would be defrauded. In some way she would lose the money. What she
was proposing was a man's work. Kate had most of her contracts signed
and much material ordered, she could not stop. Sadly she saw her
mother turn from her, declaring as she went that Kate would lose every
cent she had, and when she did she need not come hanging around her.
She had been warned. If she lost, she could take the consequences.
For an instant Kate felt that she could not endure it then she sprang
after her mother.

"Oh, but I won't lose!" she cried. "I'm keeping my money in my own
hands. I'm spending it myself. Please, Mother, come and see the
location, and let me show you everything."

"Too late now," said Mrs. Bates grimly, "the thing is done. The time
to have told me was before you made any contracts. You're always
taking the bit in your teeth and going ahead. Well, go! But remember,
'as you make your bed, so you can lie.'"

"All right," said Kate, trying to force a laugh. "Don't you worry.
Next time you get into a tight place and want to borrow a few hundreds,
come to me."

Mrs. Bates laughed derisively. Kate turned away with a faint sickness
in her heart and when half an hour later she met Nancy Ellen, fresh
from an interview with her mother, she felt no better--far worse, in
fact--for Nancy Ellen certainly could say what was in her mind with
free and forceful directness. With deft tongue and nimble brain, she
embroidered all Mrs. Bates had said, and prophesied more evil luck in
three minutes than her mother could have thought of in a year. Kate
left them with no promise of seeing either of them again, except by
accident, her heart and brain filled with misgivings. "Must I always
have 'a fly in my ointment'?" she wailed to herself. "I thought this
morning this would be the happiest day of my life. I felt as if I were
flying. Ye Gods, but wings were never meant for me. Every time I take
them, down I come kerflop, mostly in a 'gulf of dark despair,' as the
hymn book says. Anyway, I'll keep my promise and give the youngsters a
treat."

So she bought each of them an orange, some candy, and goods for a new
Sunday outfit and comfortable school clothing. Then she took the hack
for Walden, feeling in a degree as she had the day she married George
Holt. As she passed the ravine and again studied the location her
spirits arose. It WAS a good scheme. It would work. She would work
it. She would sell from