on Saturday and Sunday, if he must, for the Bates family looked on Sunday more as a day of rest for the horses and physical man than as one of religious observances.  They always worked if there was anything to be gained by it.  Six months being the term, he would be free by the first of May; surely the money would be an attraction, while Nancy Ellen could coach him on any new methods she had learned at Normal.  Kate sprang to her feet, ran across the street, and entering the hall, hurried to her room.  She found Mrs. Holt there in the act of closing her closet door.  Kate looked at her with astonished eyes.

“I was just telling my son,” Mrs. Holt said rather breathlessly, “that I would take a peep and see if I had forgot to put your extra covers on the shelf.”

Kate threw her book on the bed and walked to the table.  She had experienced her share of battle for the day.  “No children to rummage,” passed through her brain.  It was the final week of hot, dry August weather, while a point had been made of calling her attention to the extra cover when the room had been shown her.  She might have said these things, but why say them?  The shamed face of the woman convicted her of “rummaging,” as she had termed it.  Without a word Kate sat down beside the table, drew her writing material before her, and began addressing an envelope to her brother Hiram.  Mrs. Holt left the room, disliking Kate more than if she had said what the woman knew she thought.

Kate wrote briefly, convincingly, covering every objection and every advantage she could conceive, and then she added the strongest plea she could make.  What Hiram would do, she had no idea.  As with all Bates men, land was his God, but it required money to improve it.  He would feel timid about making a first attempt to teach after he was married and a father of a child, but Nancy Ellen’s marriage would furnish plausible excuse; all of the family had done their school work as perfectly as all work they undertook; he could teach if he wanted to; would he want to?  If he did, at least, she would be sure of the continued friendship of her sister and Robert Gray.  Suddenly Kate understood what that meant to her as she had not realized before.  She was making long strides toward understanding herself, which is the most important feature of any life.

She sent a line of pleading to her sister-in-law, a word of love to the baby, and finishing her letter, started to post it, as she remembered the office was only a few steps down the street.  In the hall it occurred to her that she was the “Teacher” now, and so should be an example.  Possibly the women of Walden did not run bareheaded down the street on errands.  She laid the letter on a small shelf of an old hatrack, and stepped back to her room to put on her hat.  Her return was so immediate that Mrs. Holt had the letter in her fingers when Kate came back, and was reading the address so intently, that with extended hand, the girl said in cold tones:  “My letter, please!” before the woman realized she was there.  Their eyes met in a level look.  Mrs. Holt’s mouth opened in ready excuse, but this time Kate’s temper overcame her better judgment.