he
interior of the igloo, whose little ice-window as yet admitted only the
faint light of the grey dawn. Then she melted a little snow, and
cleaned out the kettle, in which she placed two cuts of fresh trout; and
having advanced thus far in her work, thought it time to throw on her
hood and peep out to see if Frank was coming. But there was no sign of
Frank, so she re-entered the igloo and began to set things to rights.
She folded up the deerskins on which she had reposed, and piled them at
the head of the willow matting that formed her somewhat rough and
unyielding mattress, after which she arranged the ottoman, and laid out
the breakfast things on the snow-table. Having accomplished all this to
her entire satisfaction, Edith now discovered that the cuts of salmon
were sufficiently well boiled, and began to hope that Frank would be
quick, lest the breakfast should be spoiled. Under the influence of
this feeling she threw on her hood a second time, and going out upon the
lake, surveyed the shore with a scrutinising gaze. The sun was now so
far above the natural horizon that the daylight was pretty clear, but
the high mountains prevented any of his direct rays from penetrating the
gloom of the valley of the lake. Still there was light enough to enable
the solitary child to distinguish the objects on shore; but Frank's tall
form was not visible anywhere.

Heaving a slight sigh, Edith returned to the hut, soliloquising thus as
she went--"Dear me! it is very strange that Frank should stay away so
long. I fear that the trout will be quite spoiled. Perhaps it would be
very good cold. No doubt of it. We shall have it cold, and then I can
get the tea ready."

In pursuance of this plan, the anxious little housekeeper removed the
trout from the kettle, which she cleaned out and refilled with snow.
When this was melted and boiled, she put in the tea. In due time this
also was ready, and she sallied forth once more, with a feeling
approaching to anxiety, to look for Frank. Still her companion did not
make his appearance, and for the first time a feeling of dread touched
her heart. She strove to avert it, however, by considering that Frank
might have been obliged to follow the wolf farther than he expected or
intended. Then a thrill of fear passed through her breast as the
thought occurred, "What if the wolf has attacked and killed him?" As
time wore on, and no sound of voice or gun or bark of dog broke the
dreary s