nd reliable.

"Mrs. Papineau," she said, suddenly, "I think I will go over there
now. I--I have rested long enough and the fresh air will be good for
me. I will come back very soon, I suppose, but if--if Mr. Ennis should
be ill you will find me there."

Her proposal was assented to without the slightest objection. The good
woman insisted on furnishing her with footwear better suited to the
tote-road than the boots she wore. On the trail the snow would be
fairly well beaten down and there would be little need of snowshoes if
she picked her way carefully. She could not lose her way. Still, it
might be as well for one of the children to go with her. People who
were not used to the woods sometimes strayed off a trail and got in
trouble.

Under escort of the second oldest girl Madge started, briskly. She had
covered but a short distance before she wondered that she felt so
strong and well. The plain substantial food she had eaten and the
bright, stimulating air were filling her with a new life. She walked
along quite fast, for she was now anxious to see this man again. If
she had been wrong she wanted to make amends. But what if he were very
ill? She thought of the lonely little shack and the lack of any
comfort and care within it. He might be lying there helplessly, with
only a dog for a companion. At every turn of the little road she
looked ahead, keenly, thinking that perhaps she might meet him on his
way to the Papineau's. As she hurried on she felt that the house had
perhaps been too warm and it was splendid to be walking beneath the
snow-laden trees, to see the little clouds of her breath going out
into the frosty air and to hear the crackling of the clean snow under
her feet.

The child was walking sturdily at her side and told her of some
Christmas presents Hugo had brought. It was evident that to the
children of that family he was a very wonderful being, a sort of Santa
Claus who had done his full duty and one to be forever after welcomed
with joyous shrieks. And father said he was a very good shot, and
Stefan Olsen, the big man, thought there was no one like him. And he
could sing songs and tell stories, wonderful stories. Madge, as she
listened to the girl, suddenly wondered whether it was not possible
that the loneliness of such a life might not in some way have
disturbed the man's mind, at least temporarily. Wasn't it possible for
one, in such a case, to do queer things and never remember anything
about th