Kate explained again and told how she was doing all the buying,
how she would pay all bills, and keep the books. It was no use.
Mrs. Bates sternly insisted that she should do no such thing. In
some 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 the yards to Walden
and the surrounding country. She would see the dealers in Hartley
and talk the business over, so she would know she was not being
cheated in freight rates when she came to shipping. She stopped
at Mrs. Holt's, laid a deed before her for her signature, and
offered her a check for eight hundred for the Holt house and lot,
which Mrs. Holt eagerly accepted. They arranged to move
immediately, as the children were missing school. She had a deed
with her for the ravine, which George signed in Walden, and both
documents were acknowledged; but she would not give him the money
until he had the horse and buggy he was to use, at the gate, in
the spring.