women of the Harpeth Valley will be there with our
egg-baskets. Just take that answer to your Mr. Evan Baldwin, Matthew Berry,
and I'll never forgive you for this insult."

"Nancy!" ejaculated Uncle Cradd with stern amazement.

"Can't do a thing with her when she looks like that, Cradd," said father,
as he comfortably lighted a cigar and drew the small leather-covered book
towards him with hungry fingers.

"Now, Ann," began Matthew, in the soothing tone of voice he had seen fail
on me many times, "you don't understand entirely, and your situation is
pretty desperate in--"

"I do, I do understand that when I refuse this offer I am assuming enormous
obligations, Matthew Berry," I answered, with my head in the air and
absolute courage in my heart.

"I ask you to bear witness, Matthew, to what my answer to the demand of my
country would have been if I alone could have answered, but Nancy is within
her rights, and I protect the rights of a woman before those of any man,"
said Uncle Cradd, and there was not a trace of relief in his fine old face
that he was to be saved from a parting with the land that had been the love
of his life, but one of affectionate regard and admiration for me. "Also
say to the secretary of agriculture that a Craddock woman is as good as her
word, and that the Harpeth Valley can be depended upon to lead the United
States in the production of eggs in--when shall I promise, Nancy?"

"About--about a year," I answered, searching in my mind for some data from
the huge red book as to when wealth from the hen could be expected to roll
in in response to the "good management" I felt even then capable of
displaying. Even now I can't blame myself for over-confidence when I think
of the two white pearls in my hat on the table beside father's book.

"Better make it two," advised Matthew cautiously, but with a gleam of
enthusiasm as he also glanced at the eggs. That gleam was what earned my
forgiveness for his daring to come upon me with such a mission.

"Say eighteen months. That will be the end of the second season," I
answered with decision. "And it is about time for me to give the last
feeding of my hostages to the United States and Mr. Evan Baldwin. You'll
excuse me, Matthew?" I asked politely, but cruelly, for I knew he intended
to follow me immediately.

"Now here is your line of dispute, Cradd, just as I said," exclaimed
father, who had opened his leather treasure and been hunting through its
pages