n the
appearance of gems. The cold air made her breathe so deeply that she
felt amazingly strong and well. The oldest boy's smiting with his axe
came in thumps that awakened a little echo, coming from over there
where the river narrowed down between high banks. It was very
wonderful; it gave one a desire to live; it seemed a pity that one
must so soon say good-by to all this. It--it was perhaps better not to
think of that just now.

She went indoors again. There were potatoes to be peeled and the girl,
in spite of protests, took up a knife and went to work. It was such a
pleasure to do something to help. Indeed she had been idle too long,
allowing these people to do everything for her while she crouched
disconsolately in warm corners. At present all the weariness and
weakness seemed to have left her. It was just like a fresh beginning
instead of the ending of a life. It would have made her happy to think
that, somewhere in the world, providing it were away from the city,
she might have found honest work to do in exchange for some of this
wonderful peace. If she could only have remained among these gentle
and placid people and let her existence flow on, easily, without pain
and the constant worry for the morrow. It was like some marvelous
dream from which she was compelled to awaken at once, for she realized
that there was no place for her in this household. The older children
were already of the greatest assistance to their parents, and there
was no room for her in the crowded shack. She had caused these people
some inconvenience, which they had accepted cheerfully, it was true,
but which she could not keep on inflicting on them. But for some
hours--some blessed hours, she could play at being happy and pretend
that life was sweet. She could smile now, when these people spoke to
her, and she hugged some of the little ones without apparent reason.

"You stay 'ere some more day," Mrs. Papineau told her, "an' den you
look lak' oder gal sure. Get fat an' lose de black roun' you h'eyes.
You now a tousan' time better as ven you come, you bet. Dis a fine
coontree, Canada, for peoples get strong an' hoongree an' work 'ard
an' sleep good."

"It's a perfectly beautiful and wonderful country," cried the girl,
enthusiastically. "I--I wish I could always live here."

"You one so prettee gal," commented the good woman. "Some day you fin'
one good 'usban' an' marry an' h'always lif in dis coontree. Den you
is happy and strong. Ple