r appearance--she turned to the table and wrote on a
slip of paper, "I'm next door;" this she pinned to the outside of her
door, and then locking it went into the next cabin in the row. She had
grown quite accustomed to Stephen's visits now, and generally left a
note on her door when she went out, in case he should come unexpectedly
in her absence. The cabin she entered presented a different appearance
from her own. There was the same large stove opposite the door, the same
rough table in the centre and wooden chairs round, but the floor was
dirty and gritty, quite unlike Katrine's, which always maintained a
white and floury look from her constant attentions, and the stove looked
rusty and uncleaned. The small square panes of the window, too, hardly
let in any light, they were so obscured by dust inside and snow frozen
on to them without. By the stove sat a young woman, in whose face
ill-health and beauty struggled together for predominance. Her hair,
twisted into a loose knot at the back of her head, was of the lightest
gold colour, like a young child's, and her face brought to one's mind
the idea of milk and violets, the skin was so white and smooth and the
eyes so blue. This was the beauty which no disease could kill, but
ill-health triumphed in the livid circles round the eyes, the drawn
lines round the faded lips. Katrine entered with her brightest smile.

"Well, Annie, are you better to-day?" she asked.

The woman rose with an unsteady movement from the chair, and before she
could answer burst suddenly into a rain of tears. "Better? Oh, Katie, I
shall never be any better! But I wish I could go home to die!"

Katrine advanced and put her arms round her, drawing the frail
attenuated form close against her own warm vigorous frame.

"What nonsense!" she said gently. "You are not going to die at home or
anywhere yet. Why, Will is going to make a big strike, and take you home
to live in style all the rest of your life."

"No," sobbed the girl,--for she was no more than a girl in age,--falling
back in her chair again. "No, it won't come in time for me."

"Where is Will?" asked Katrine, looking round.

"He's just got a job up at the west gulch on Mr. Stephen Wood's claim,"
returned the other. "Oh, I am that thankful he's found some one to
employ him at last."

"Yes, it's delightful," returned Katrine, absently, as she sat down on
the other side of the rusty stove and looked round the dirty, cheerless
room. It was