Before the week's visit was over, Kate was trying to fit herself and her aims and objects of life into the surroundings, with no success whatever.
She felt housed in, cribbed, confined, frustrated.

When she realized that she was becoming plainly cross, she began keen self-analysis and soon admitted to herself that she did not belong there.
Kate watched with keen eyes.

Repeatedly she tried to imagine herself in such surroundings for life, a life sentence, she expressed it, for soon she understood that it would be to her, a prison.

The only way she could imagine herself enduring it at all was to think of the promised farm, and when she began to think of that on Jardine terms, she saw that it would mean to sit down and tell someone else what she wanted done.

There would be no battle to fight.