She walked from the house, head erect, shoulders squared, and so
down the street from sight. In half an hour a truckman came for
her trunk, so Nancy Ellen made everything Kate had missed into a
bundle to send with it. When she came to the letters, she
hesitated.
"I guess she didn't want them," she said. "I'll just keep them
awhile and if she doesn't ask about them, the next time she comes,
I'll burn them. Robert must go after her every Friday evening,
and we'll keep her until Monday, and do all we can to cheer her;
and this very day he must find out all there is to know about that
George Holt. That IS the finest letter I ever read; she does kind
of stand up for him; and in the reaction, impulsive as she is and
self-confident -- of course she wouldn't, but you never can tell
what kind of fool a girl will make of herself, in some cases."
Kate walked swiftly, finished two of the errands she set out to
do, then her feet carried her three miles from Hartley on the
Walden road, before she knew where she was, so she proceeded to
the village.
Mrs. Holt was not at home, but the house was standing open. Kate
found her room cleaned, shining, and filled with flowers. She
paid the drayman, opened her trunk, and put away her dresses,
laying out all the things which needed washing; then she bathed,
put on heavy shoes, and old skirt and waist, and crossing the road
sat in a secluded place in the ravine and looked stupidly at the
water. She noticed that everything was as she had left it in the
spring, with many fresher improvements, made, no doubt, to please
her. She closed her eyes, leaned against a big tree, and slow,
cold and hot shudders alternated in shaking her frame.
She did not open her eyes when she heard a step and her name
called. She knew without taking the trouble to look that George
had come home, found her luggage in her room, and was hunting for
her. She heard him come closer and knew when he seated himself
that he was watching her, but she did not care enough even to
move. Finally she shifted her position to rest herself, opened
her eyes, and looked at him without a word. He returned her gaze
steadily, smiling gravely. She had never seen him looking so
well. He had put in the summer grooming himself, he had kept up
the house and garden, and spent all his spare time on the ravine,
and farming on the shares with his mother's sister who lived three
miles east of them. At last she roused herself and again looked
at him.
"I had your letter this morning," she said.