Kate drove carefully, but as fast as she dared with her load. As they neared Bates Corners, the way became more familiar each mile. Kate forgot the children, forgot her mother, forgot ten years of disappointment and failure, and began a struggle to realize what was happening to her now. The lines slipped down, the horse walked slowly, the first thing she knew, big hot tears splashed on her hand. She gathered up the lines, drew a deep breath, and glanced at her mother, meeting her eye fairly. Kate tried to smile, but her lips were quivering.
"Glad, Katie?" asked Mrs. Bates.
Kate nodded.
"Me, too!" said Mrs. Bates.
They passed the orchard.
"There's the house, there, Polly!" cried Adam.
"Why, Adam, how did you know the place?" asked Kate, turning.
Adam hesitated a second. "Ain't you told us times a-plenty about the house and the lilac, and the snowball bush—" "Yes, and the cabbage roses," added Polly.
"So I have," said Kate. "Mostly last winter when we were knitting. Yes, this will be home for all the rest of our lives. Isn't it grand? How will we ever thank Grandmother? How will we ever be good enough to pay her?"
Both children thought this a hint, so with one accord they arose and fell on Mrs. Bates' back, and began to pay at once in coin of childhood.