t say that the dainty toe-tip first kicked the
offensive little branch and then crunched it deep in the turf.

"I hate this lonely country," said the voice, with the vim of water-fret
against an obstinate stone. "Wonder what it's like in the Mandane land!
I'm sure it's nicer there."

Now I affirm there is not a youth living who would not at some time give
his right hand to know a woman's exact interpretation of that word
"nicer." For my part, it set me clutching the branch with such ferocity,
off snapped the thing with the sharp splintering of a breaking stick.
The voice gave a gasp and she jumped aside with nervous trepidation.

"Whatever--was that? I am--not frightened." No one was accusing her. "I
won't go in! I won't let myself be frightened! There! The very idea!"
And three or four sharp stamps followed in quick succession; but she was
shivering.

"I declare the house is so lonely, a ghost would be live company." And
she looked doubtfully from the dark house to the quivering poplars. "I'd
rather be out here with the tree-toads and owls and bats than in there
alone, even if they do frighten me! Anyway, I'm not frightened! It's
just some stupid hop-and-go-spring thing at the base of our brains that
makes us jump at mice and rats." But the hands interlocking at her back
twitched and clasped and unclasped in a way that showed the automatic
brain-spring was still active.

"It's getting worse every day. I can't stand it much longer, looking and
looking till I'm half blind and no one but Indian riders all day long.
Why doesn't he come? Oh! I know something is wrong."

"Afraid of the Metis," thought I, "and expecting her father. A fine
father to leave his daughter alone in the house with the half-breeds
threatening a raid. She needs some one else to take care of her." This,
on after thought, I know was unjust to her father; for pioneers obey
necessity first and chivalry second.

"If he would only come!" she repeated in a half whisper.

"Hope he doesn't," thought I.

"For a week I've been dreaming such fearful things! I see him sinking in
green water, stretching his hands to me and I can't reach out to save
him. On Sunday he seemed to be running along a black, awful precipice. I
caught him in my arms to hold him back, but he dragged me over and I
screamed myself awake. Sometimes, he is in a black cave and I can't find
any door to let him out. Or he lies bound in some dungeon, and when I
stoop to cut the cords, he