Then the torrent broke. At the first hint that
she would consider his proposal George Holt drew her
to him and talked volumes of impassioned love to her.
He gave her no chance to say anything; he said all
there was to say himself; he urged that Jardine would
come, and she should not be there. He begged,
he pleaded, he reasoned. Night found Kate sitting
on the back porch at Aunt Ollie’s with a confused
memory of having stood beside the little stream with
her hand in George Holt’s while she assented
to the questions of a Justice of the Peace, in the
presence of the School Director and Mrs. Holt.
She knew that immediately thereafter they had walked
away along a hot, dusty country road; she had tried
to eat something that tasted like salted ashes.
She could hear George’s ringing laugh of exultation
breaking out afresh every few minutes; in sudden irritation
at the latest guffaw she clearly remembered one thing:
in her dazed and bewildered state she had forgotten
to tell him that she was a Prodigal Daughter.
THE BRIDE
Only one memory in the ten days that followed
before her school began ever stood out clearly and
distinctly with Kate. That was the morning of
the day after she married George Holt. She saw
Nancy Ellen and Robert at the gate so she went out
to speak with them. Nancy Ellen was driving,
she held the lines and the whip in her hands.
Kate in dull apathy wondered why they seemed so deeply
agitated. Both of them stared at her as if she
might be a maniac.
“Is this thing in the morning paper true?”
cried Nancy Ellen in a high, shrill voice that made
Kate start in wonder. She did not take the trouble
to evade by asking “what thing?” she merely
made assent with her head.
“You are married to that — that —”
Nancy Ellen choked until she could not say what.
“It’s time to stop, since I am married
to him,” said Kate, gravely.
“You rushed in and married him without giving
Robert time to find out and tell you what everybody
knows about him?” demanded Nancy Ellen.
“I married him for what I knew about him myself,”
said Kate. “We shall do very well.”
“Do well!” cried Nancy. “Do
well! You’ll be hungry and in rags the
rest of your life!”
“Don’t, Nancy Ellen, don’t!”
plead Robert. “This is Kate’s affair,
wait until you hear what she has to say before you
go further.”
“I don’t care what she has to say!”
cried Nancy Ellen. “I’m saying my
say right now. This is a disgrace to the whole
Bates family. We may not be much, but there
isn’t a lazy, gambling, drunken loafer among
us, and there won’t be so far as I’m concerned.”
She glared at Kate who gazed at her in wonder.
“You really married this lout?” she demanded.
“I told you I was married,” said Kate,
patiently, for she saw that Nancy Ellen was irresponsible
with anger.
