Kate stared straight before her, sitting absorbed and motionless.
Close in front of her a little white moth fluttered over the twigs
and grasses. A kingbird sailed into view and perched on a brush-
heap preparatory to darting after the moth. While the bird
measured the distance and waited for the moth to rise above the
entangling grasses, with a sweep and a snap a smaller bird, very
similar in shape and colouring, flashed down, catching the moth
and flying high among the branches of a big tree.

"Aha! You missed your opportunity!" said Kate to the kingbird.

She sat straighter suddenly. "Opportunity," she repeated. "Here
is where I am threatened with missing mine. Opportunity! I
wonder now if that might not be another name for 'the wings of
morning.' Morning is winging its way past me, the question is:
do I sit still and let it pass, or do I take its wings and fly
away?"

Kate brooded on that awhile, then her thought formulated into
words again.

"It isn't as if Mother were sick or poor, she is perfectly well
and stronger than nine women out of ten of her age; Father can
afford to hire all the help she needs; there is nothing cruel or
unkind in leaving her; and as for Nancy Ellen, why does the fact
that I am a few years younger than she, make me her servant? Why
do I cook for her, and make her bed, and wash her clothes, while
she earns money to spend on herself? And she is doing everything
in her power to keep me at it, because she likes what she is doing
and what it brings her, and she doesn't give a tinker whether I