em afterwards? No one better than she knew what a terrible and
maddening thing loneliness was. She recollected distracting hours
spent in little hall-bedrooms while she tried to mend, after an
exhausting day's work, the poor clothing that wore out so terribly
soon, and how at times she had felt that she must be becoming crazy.

"But no! He couldn't have done it. He--he's a very quiet sensible man,
I should think, and--and he wouldn't hurt even a dog," she repeated to
herself.

They were journeying quite fast over the trail that snaked along
through the woods, bending here and there in order to avoid boulders
and stumps and fallen trees but always coming in sight of the frozen
river again. At times Madge trudged through rather deep snow. Also she
stubbed her toes upon rocks and stumbled over branches broken off by
the great gales of winter. But it really wasn't very hard. And the
child kept on chattering about Monsieur Hugo and asking eager
questions about the big city. Was it true that as far as one could see
there were houses standing right up against one another for miles and
miles, and that people swarmed in them as do the wild bees in hollow
trees? It was natural for bees to do such things, and for ants, and
for the minnows in shoals down in the river, but why did people have
to crowd in such a way? How could they breathe?

Finally they came in sight of the shack and the child gave a swift
glance.

"No smoke, mees," she said. "Heem go away, or mebbe heem seek."

Madge hurried along faster for an instant, and then stopped short.
What if neither of the child's conclusions was correct? If she went
over there and knocked at the door he might come out, looking rather
surprised. She had told him that she had come to Carcajou, looking for
an unknown husband, for a man she was willing to accept under certain
conditions, just because her life had become intolerable. He might
lift his brow and perhaps ask her quite civilly to come in. But what
would he think? Would he imagine that she was running after him and
trying to compel him to marry her? It was not alone the frost that
brought color to her cheeks now. No, it would never do.

"I think I will wait here," she told the little girl. "Will you please
go and find out if Mr. Ennis is there, and whether he is all right
again? I'll sit down on this log and wait till you come back."

The child looked rather puzzled but she ran down the path that led to
the cabin. Madge sa