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Updated: June 13, 2025
With a quick glance behind her, and a determined set to her chin, she began to climb the gate. She was descending upon the other side in safety, when Grandfather McBride came upon her. His hat was pushed back upon his head, his stick was forgotten. He descended upon her as might a hungry lion upon its prey. He roared in fact, he bellowed. "Katrina Prentiss, get back over that fence.
Katrina was so glad the fever was broken that she had not the heart to say anything about the spoiled wedding shirt, though she probably thought to herself that she had a fool of a husband. 0ne Sunday afternoon Jan and Glory Goldie set out together in the direction of the big forest; the little girl was then in her fifth year.
He had no objection to retiring at once, he said presently. Katrina dished out the porridge, the evening meal was hurridly eaten, and by a quarter after six they were abed. They dropped off to sleep, too; but their slumbers were of short duration.
"What ails you?" he said roughly, shaking her by the shoulder. But the girl did not answer him and annoyed and bewildered, he sat down. For some moments no one spoke, and even the pale Elsa leaned forward and seemed to quiver with excitement. Then the girl, Katrina, slowly rose from her chair. "Who are you?" she demanded, in a hoarse, guttural voice, still gazing at me with terrified eyes.
If Mary Bishop and Katrina Thayer were the standard, then Norma Sheridan's life was too utterly obscure and insignificant to be worth living. But of course if incompetent strugglers like the Barrys were to be brought into the question, then Norma might begin to feel the solid ground melting from beneath her feet.
To Jan it was the rumble of heavy war chariots, at whose approach the whole earth trembled. He called in a loud voice to Katrina, who came out immediately. "Dear heart, don't be so scared!" she said reassuringly. "I can see the horse now. It's the old bay from Falla. Sit up and you'll see it, too." Slipping her hand under Jan's neck she raised him to a sitting posture.
"What an escape for you!" she said. "If you had gone there to live and then found the establishment queer!" From the kitchen of the pension, Olga was listening, an ear to the door. Behind her, also listening, but less advantageously, was Katrina. "American ladies!" said Olga. "Two, old and fat." "More hot water!" growled Katrina.
Jan did so. Then he saw Katrina coming toward the house with a letter in her hand. That was surely the letter from Glory Goldie which they had been longing for every day since her departure. Katrina, knowing how happy Jan would be to get this, had come straight over with it the moment it arrived. Jan glanced about him, bewildered.
In reply to his queries she said that her name was not Lurancy Vennum but Katrina Hogan, that she was sixty-three years old, and had come from Germany "through the air" three days before. Changing her manner quickly, she confessed that she had lied and was in reality a boy, Willie Canning, who had died and "now is here because he wants to be."
He seemed to have better luck than had Börje or Katrina: for he was heard to say "Go'-day" to somebody out in the entry. Now every one turned to see who it was that had been standing outside all the evening, afraid to come in. They could hear Jan urging and imploring. Evidently the person wished to be excused, for presently Jan pulled the door to and stepped back into the room, alone.
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