In a daze Kate climbed down, and ran to bring a chair to help her mother.  The children were boisterously half eating Mrs. Bates up; she had both of them in her arms, with every outward evidence of enjoying the performance immensely.  That was a very busy evening, for the wagon was to be unpacked; all of them were hungry, while the stock was to be fed, and the milking done.  Mrs. Bates and Polly attempted supper; Kate and Adam went to the barn; but they worked very hurriedly, for Kate could see how feeble her mother had grown.

When at last the children were bathed and in bed, Kate and her mother sat on the little front porch to smell spring a few minutes before going to rest.  Kate reached over and took her mother’s hand.

“There’s no word I know in any language big enough to thank you for this, Mother,” she said.  “The best I can do is make each day as nearly a perfect expression of what I feel as possible.”

Mrs. Bates drew away her hand and used it to wipe her eyes; but she said with her usual terse perversity:  “My, Kate!  You’re most as wordy as Agatha.  I’m no glibtonguer, but I bet you ten dollars it will hustle you some to be any gladder than I am.”

Kate laughed and gave up the thanks question.

“To-morrow we must get some onions in,” she said.  “Have you made any plans about the farm work for this year yet?”

“No,” said Mrs. Bates.  “I was going to leave that till I decided whether I’d come after you this spring or wait until next.  Since I decided to come now, I’ll just leave your farm to you.  Handle it as you please.”

“Mother, what will the other children say?” implored Kate.

“Humph!  You are about as well acquainted with them as I am.  Take a shot at it yourself.  If it will avoid a fuss, we might just say you had to come to stay with me, and run the farm for me, and let them get used to your being here, and bossing things by degrees; like the man that cut his dog’s tail off an inch at a time, so it wouldn’t hurt so bad.”

“But by inches, or ‘at one fell swoop,’ it’s going to hurt,” said Kate.

“Sometimes it seems to me,” said Mrs. Bates, “that the more we get hurt in this world the decenter it makes us.  All the boys were hurt enough when Pa went, but every man of them has been a bigger, better man since.  Instead of competing as they always did, Adam and Andrew and the older, beforehandeder ones, took hold and helped the younger as you told them to, and it’s done the whole family a world of good.  One thing is funny.  To hear Mary talk now, you’d think she engineered that plan herself.  The boys are all thankful, and so are the girls.  I leave it to you.  Tell them or let them guess it by degrees, it’s all one to me.”

“Tell me about Nancy Ellen and Robert,” said Kate.