It was sweet to awaken in the old room. Through the open window she
could see the fork in the linden tree and the squirrels making free in
the branches. The birds were at their opera, and now and then the shape
of one outlined itself against the holland shade. Kate had been
commanded to take her breakfast in bed and she was more than willing to
do so. The after-college lassitude was upon her and her thoughts moved
drowsily through her weary brain.
Her mother, by an unwonted exercise of self-control, kept from the room
that morning, stopping only now and then at the door for a question or a
look. That was sweet, too. Kate loved to have her hovering about like
that, and yet the sight of her, so fragile, so fluttering, added to the
sense of sadness that was creeping over her. After a time it began to
rain softly, the drops slipping down into the shrubbery and falling like
silver beads from the window-hood. At that Kate began to weep, too, just
as quietly, and then she slept again. Her mother coming in on tiptoe saw
tears on the girl's cheek, but she did not marvel. Though her experience
had been narrow she was blessed with certain perceptions. She knew that
even women who called themselves happy sometimes had need to weep.
* * * * *
The little pensive pause was soon over. There was no use, as all the
sturdier part of Kate knew, in holding back from the future. That very
afternoon the new life began forcing itself on her. The neighbors
called, eager to meet this adventurous one who had turned her back on
the pleasant conventions and had refused to content herself with the
Silvertree Seminary for Young Ladies. They wanted to see what the new
brand of young woman was like. Moreover, there was no one who was not
under obligations to be kind to her mother's daughter. So, presently the
whole social life of Silvertree, aroused from its midsummer torpor by
this exciting event, was in full swing.