y her hand and used it to wipe her eyes; but she
said with her usual terse perversity: "My, Kate! You're most as wordy
as Agatha. I'm no glibtonguer, but I bet you ten dollars it will
hustle you some to be any gladder than I am."

Kate laughed and gave up the thanks question.

"To-morrow we must get some onions in," she said. "Have you made any
plans about the farm work for this year yet?"

"No," said Mrs. Bates. "I was going to leave that till I decided
whether I'd come after you this spring or wait until next. Since I
decided to come now, I'll just leave your farm to you. Handle it as
you please."

"Mother, what will the other children say?" implored Kate.

"Humph! You are about as well acquainted with them as I am. Take a
shot at it yourself. If it will avoid a fuss, we might just say you
had to come to stay with me, and run the farm for me, and let them get
used to your being here, and bossing things by degrees; like the man
that cut his dog's tail off an inch at a time, so it wouldn't hurt so
bad."

"But by inches, or 'at one fell swoop,' it's going to hurt," said Kate.

"Sometimes it seems to me," said Mrs. Bates, "that the more we get HURT
in this world the decenter it makes us. All the boys were hurt enough
when Pa went, but every man of them has been a BIGGER, BETTER man
since. Instead of competing as they always did, Adam and Andrew and
the older, beforehandeder ones, took hold and helped the younger as you
told them to, and it's done the whole family a world of good. One
thing is funny. To hear Mary talk now, you'd think she engineered that
plan herself. The boys are all thankful, and so are the girls. I
leave it to you. Tell them or let them guess it by degrees, it's all
one to me."

"Tell me about Nancy Ellen and Robert," said Kate.

"Robert stands head in Hartley. He gets bigger and broader every year.
He is better looking than a man has any business to be; and I hear the
Hartley ladies give him plenty of encouragement in being stuck on
himself, but I think he is true to Nancy Ellen, and his heart is all in
his work. No children. That's a burning shame! Both of them feel it.
In a way, and strictly between you and me, Nancy Ellen is a
disappointment to me, an' I doubt if she ain't been a mite of a one to
him. He had a right to expect a good deal of Nancy Ellen. She had
such a good brain, and good body, and purty face. I may miss my guess,
but it always strikes me that she f