As if something in the other's words had galvanized her into sudden action Mrs. Mears sprang to her feet. Like a wild thing she circled the room, beating her hands together.
"I can't go back!" she cried. "I can't go back! Whut'll I do? Oh, whut'll I do?"
"Do what I am advising you to do."
Dr. Harland's quiet voice steadied the hysterical woman. Under its calming influence I could see her pull herself together.
"Write Mr. Mears that you are coming with us, and give him our advance route, so that he will know exactly where you are all the time. If your daughter can manage your home for five days she can manage it for two weeks. And your little jaunt need not cost your husband one penny."
"I brought twenty dollars with me," quavered Tildy Mears.
"Keep it," advised the temporarily reckless leader of the woman's cause. "When we reach Bismarck you can buy yourself a new dress and get some little presents to take home to the children."
Tildy Mears stopped her reckless pacing of the room and stood for a moment very still, her eyes fixed on a worn spot in the rug at her feet.
"I reckon I will," she then said, slowly. "Sence you ask me, I jest reckon I'll stay."
The next evening, during her remarks to the gathering she was then addressing, Dr. Harland abruptly checked herself.