“I see you were not expecting me,” she said. “I’m sorry. Adam came after me. I wouldn’t have come if he hadn’t said you sent for me.”
Kate paused a minute hopefully. Her mother looked at her steadily.
“I’m sorry,” Kate repeated. “I don’t know why he said that.”
By that time the pain in her heart was so fierce she caught her breath sharply, and pressed her hand hard against her side. Her mother stooped, set down the buckets, and taking off her sunbonnet, wiped the sweat from her lined face with the curtain.
“Well, I do,” she said tersely.
“Why?” demanded Kate.
“To see if he could use you to serve his own interests, of course,” answered her mother. “He lied good and hard when he said I sent for you; I didn’t. I probably wouldn’t a-had the sense to do it. But since you are here, I don’t mind telling you that I never was so glad to see any one in all my born days.”
Mrs. Bates drew herself full height, set her lips, stiffened her jaw, and again used the bonnet skirt on her face and neck. Kate picked up the potatoes, to hide the big tears that gushed from her eyes, and leading the way toward the house she said: “Come over here in the shade. Why should you be out digging potatoes?”
“Oh, they’s enough here, and willing enough,” said Mrs. Bates. “Slipped off to get away from them. It was the quietest and the peacefullest out there, Kate. I’d most liked to stay all day, but it’s getting on to dinner time, and I’m short of potatoes.”
“Never mind the potatoes,” said Kate. “Let the folks serve themselves if they are hungry.”
She went to the side of the smoke house, picked up a bench turned up there, and carrying it to the shady side of a widely spreading privet bush, she placed it where it would be best screened from both house and barn. Then setting the potatoes in the shade, she went to her mother, put her arm around her, and drew her to the seat. She took her handkerchief and wiped her face, smoothed back her straggled hair, and pulling out a pin, fastened the coil better.