"You tell that at the Insane Asylum or the Feeble Minded Home! I've seen the records! I know to the acre how much land stands in your father's name.

Don't try to work that on me, my lady." "I am not trying to work anything on you," said Kate, dully, wondering to herself why she listened, why she went on with it.

"I'm merely telling you.

In Father's big chest at the head of his bed at home lies a deed for two hundred acres of land for each of his seven sons, all signed and ready to deliver.

He keeps the land in his name on record to bring him distinction and feed his vanity.