"But I must teach to the earn money for my outfit. I'll have to
go back to school in the same old sailor."
"Don't you care," laughed Nancy Ellen. "We know a secret!"
"That we do!" agreed Kate.
Wednesday Kate noticed Nancy Ellen watching for the boy Robert had
promised to send with the mail as soon as it was distributed,
because she was, herself. Twice Thursday, Kate hoped in vain that
the suspense would be over. It had to end Friday, if John were
coming Saturday night. She began to resent the length of time he
was waiting. It was like him to wait until the last minute, and
then depend on money to carry him through.
"He is giving me a long time to think things over," Kate said to
Nancy Ellen when there was no letter in the afternoon mail
Thursday.
"It may have been lost or delayed," said Nancy Ellen. "It will
come to-morrow, surely."
Both of them saw the boy turn in at the gate Friday morning. Each
saw that he carried more than one letter. Nancy Ellen was on her
feet and nearer to the door; she stepped to it, and took the
letters, giving them a hasty glance as she handed them to Kate.
"Two," she said tersely. "One, with the address written in the
clear, bold hand of a gentleman, and one, the straggle of a
country clod-hopper."
Kate smiled as she took the letters: "I'll wager my hat, which is
my most precious possession," she said, "that the one with the
beautifully written address comes from the 'clod-hopper,' and the
'straggle' from the 'gentleman.'"
She glanced at the stamping and addresses and smiled again: "So
it proves," she said. "While I'm about it, I'll see what the
'clod-hopper' has to say, and then I shall be free to give my
whole attention to the 'gentleman.'"
"Oh, Kate, how can you!" cried Nancy Ellen.
"Way I'm made, I 'spect," said Kate. "Anyway, that's the way this
is going to be done."
She dropped the big square letter in her lap and ran her finger
under the flap of the long, thin, beautifully addressed envelope,
and drew forth several quite as perfectly written sheets. She
read them slowly and deliberately, sometimes turning back a page
and going over a part of it again. When she finished, she glanced
at Nancy Ellen while slowly folding the sheets. "Just for half a
cent I'd ask you to read this," she said.
"I certainly shan't pay anything for the privilege, but I'll read
it, if you want me to," offered Nancy Ellen.
"All right, go ahead," said Kate. "It might possibly teach you
that you can't always judge a man by appearance, or hastily;
though just why George Holt looks more like a 'clod-hopper' than
Adam, or Hiram, or Andrew, it passes me to tell."