Katy at home went on with her accustomed tasks. She was silent; she avoided her aunt and uncle, since any sudden, gentle address made her certain that she was going to cry. She put little Adam down whenever he wished to climb up beside her on the settle; she was to every one a trying puzzle. In her nervousness she had often a desire to stand still and scream. One evening the squire came into the Gaumer kitchen. Edwin lay on the settle asleep, his wife sat by the table sewing, little Adam was long since in bed. Katy, too, had gone upstairs. Forgetting now that she had announced her intention of going to bed immediately, she left her place by the window to go down for a drink, and came face to face with the squire who was entering. The squire looked grave; he seated himself in Grandfather Gaumer's armchair as though he meant to hold court. In a flash Katy knew what he had come to say. Uncle Edwin sat up blinking, Aunt Sally dropped her sewing into her lap. The squire did not often pay calls so late in the evening. "Katy," began the squire in a stern voice, "what is this I hear about you?" Katy's hand was still upon the latch of the stairway door; she grasped it for support. She had thought that she was prepared for the coming interview, but she was now badly frightened. Never before had the squire spoken to her with anything but gentleness and affection. "What do you hear about me?" "Benner came in just now on his way from Cassie Hartman's. He had been trying to find a girl for her. She said that now she would not need one, that you were going to hire out to her in September." Uncle Edwin blinked more rapidly. Aunt Sally's lips parted. "Well?" said Katy. "Is this thing so?" "Yes," answered Katy, bravely. "There is nothing wrong in it. It is honest." "You are going to hire out!" cried Edwin. Aunt Sally began to cry. These tears were not the first she had shed on Katy's account. "What _for_?" demanded Uncle Edwin. "You have a home. I told you we would send you to school. You need not even touch your money. What is this, Katy?" "I want to earn my living, that is all." Katy's voice was dry and hard. "It is surely my right to earn my living if I want to!" "Earn your living if you must!" said the squire, gruffly. "Of course you can earn your living if you want to. But go to school and learn to earn it right." "I do not want to go to school." The squire looked at her helplessly. Then he crossed the room and took her by the shoulders and seated her on the settle between Edwin and himself. He was a persuasive person; it was hard for any one to deny him what he commanded or what he requested. "Katy, dear, are you in any trouble?" Katy actually prayed for help in her prevarication. "No." "There is Edwin and here am I," went on the squire. "We are strong enough to do up anybody. Now, what is the matter, Katy?" "Nothing," insisted Katy. "You once wanted to sing," Aunt Sally reminded her. "You were wonderful strong for singing."