Before Kate awakened the following morning George was out feeding
the horses, cattle, and chickens, doing the milking, and working
like the proverbial beaver. By the time breakfast was ready, he
had convinced himself that he was a very exemplary man, while he
expected Kate to be convinced also. He stood ready and willing to
forgive her for every mean deceit and secret sin he ever had
committed, or had it in his heart to commit in the future. All
the world was rosy with him, he was flying with the wings of hope
straight toward a wonderful achievement that would bring pleasure
and riches, first to George Holt, then to his wife and children,
then to the old aunt he really cared more for than any one else.
Incidentally, his mother might have some share, while he would
bring such prosperity and activity to the village that all Walden
would forget every bad thing it had ever thought or known of him,
and delight to pay him honour. Kate might have guessed all this
when she saw the pails full of milk on the table, and heard George
whistling "Hail the Conquering Hero Comes," as he turned the cows
into the pasture; but she had not slept well. Most of the night
she had lain staring at the ceiling, her brain busy with
calculations, computations, most of all with personal values.
She dared not be a party to anything that would lose Aunt Ollie
her land; that was settled; but if she went into the venture
herself, if she kept the deeds in Aunt Ollie's name, the bank
account in hers, drew all the checks, kept the books, would it be
safe? Could George buy timber as he thought; could she, herself,
if he failed? The children were old enough to be in school now,
she could have much of the day, she could soon train Polly and
Adam to do even more than sweep and run errands; the scheme could
be materialized in the Bates way, without a doubt; but could it be
done in a Bates way, hampered and impeded by George Holt? Was the
plan feasible, after all? She entered into the rosy cloud
enveloping the kitchen without ever catching the faintest gleam of
its hue. George came to her the instant he saw her and tried to
put his arm around her. Kate drew back and looked at him
intently.
"Aw, come on now, Kate," he said. "Leave out the heroics and be
human. I'll do exactly as you say about everything if you will
help me wheedle Aunt Ollie into letting me have the money."
Kate stepped back and put out her hands defensively: "A rare
bargain," she said, "and one eminently worthy of you. You'll do
what I say, if I'll do what you say, without the slightest
reference as to whether it impoverishes a woman who has always
helped and befriended you. You make me sick!"