bove the portage,
and was immediately started off to deliver the letters at Seal Cove.

A mail that arrives only once in five months or so is bound to be
treated as a thing of moment, even when, as in this case, it was
limited to half a dozen letters and three or four newspapers. To
Katherine's great delight one of the papers was addressed to The
Postmaster, Roaring Water Portage, and she carried it in to her
father in the dreary little room which was walled off from the
store.

"What have you got: a letter?" he asked, turning towards her, his
face looking even more thin and drawn than usual.

"No, there were no letters for any of us; ours usually come by way
of Montreal and Lake Temiskaming, you know; but this is a sort of
special mail, which has been brought by Indians from Maxokama. But
there is a newspaper for you, which shows it is a good thing to be
postmaster even of a place so remote as this," she said with a
laugh.

"A newspaper will be a treat indeed. I think I will get up,
Katherine, and sit by the stove in the store; one can't read a
newspaper comfortably in bed. Besides, you will be wanting to go
out delivering the mail."

"Miles has taken the Seal Cove letters, but there is one for Astor
M'Kree that Phil and I will take up this afternoon; the dogs will
be glad of a run," she answered, bringing his garments and
arranging them near the bed so that he could slip into them easily.

"Fancy a team of four dogs, a sledge, and two people to carry one
letter!" he exclaimed.

"Not quite that," she responded with a laugh, glad to see that his
mood was so cheerful. "There is a newspaper to go too, and we
shall take up a small barrel of flour, with some bacon and sugar."

"That sounds better at any rate, and I shall be delighted for you
to have a run in the sunshine," 'Duke Radford said, with that
thoughtful consideration for others which made his children love
him with such an ardent affection.

Katherine had not gone many yards from the door that afternoon
before she noticed a difference in the temperature; it was a soft,
clinging warmth, which made her glad to unfasten her scarlet cloud,
while the glare of the sunshine was becoming paler, as if a mist
were rising.

"Phil, the rain is coming; I can smell it, and the dogs can smell
it too. We are in for weather of sorts, I fancy, but Astor M'Kree
must get his letter first, even if we have to race for it!" she
cried.

"Let's race, then; the dog's