“But how many times must he come, and how much interest must he evince?” asked Kate.

“I can scarcely name an exact number,” said Agatha.  “That is personal.  You must decide for yourself what is the psychological moment at which he is to be taken.  Have you even signified to him that you —­ that you —­ that you could be induced, even to contemplate marriage?”

“Oh, yes,” said Kate, heartily.  “I told his mother that it was the height of my ambition to marry by the time I’m twenty.  I told her I wanted a man as tall as I am, two hundred acres of land, and at least twelve babies.”

Agatha collapsed suddenly.  She turned her shocked face toward Nancy Ellen.

“Great Day of Rest!” she cried.  “No wonder the man doesn’t propose!”

When the men returned from their stroll, Agatha and Susan served them with delicious frozen custard and Angel’s food cake.  Then they resumed their drive, passing Hiram’s place last.  At the corner Robert hesitated and turned to ask:  “Shall we go ahead, Kate?”

“Certainly,” said Kate.  “I want Mr. Jardine to see where I was born and spent my time of legal servitude.  I suppose we daren’t stop.  I doubt if Mother would want to see me, and I haven’t the slightest doubt that Father would not; but he has no jurisdiction over the road.  It’s the shortest way —­ and besides, I want to see the lilac bush and the cabbage roses.”

As they approached the place Nancy Ellen turned.

“Father’s standing at the gate.  What shall we do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, but drive straight ahead and you and Robert speak to him,” said Kate.  “Go fast, Robert.”

He touched the team and at fair speed they whirled past the white house, at the gate of which, stiffly erect, stood a brawny man of six feet six, his face ruddy and healthy in appearance.  He was dressed as he prepared himself to take a trip to pay his taxes, or to go to Court.  He stood squarely erect, with stern, forbidding face, looking directly at them.  Robert spoke to him, and Nancy Ellen leaned forward and waved, calling “Father,” that she might be sure he knew her, but he gave not the slightest sign of recognition.  They carried away a distinct picture of him, at his best physically and in appearance; at his worst mentally.

“There you have it!” said Kate, bitterly.  “I’d be safe in wagering a thousand dollars, if I had it, that Agatha or the children told, at Hiram’s or to Mother’s girl, that we were coming.  They knew we would pass about this time.  Mother was at the side door watching, and Father was in his Sunday best, waiting to show us what would happen if we stopped, and that he never changes his mind.  It didn’t happen by accident that he was standing there dressed that way.  What do you think, Nancy Elen?”

“That he was watching for us!” said Nancy Ellen.

“But why do you suppose that he did it?” asked Kate.