Little Wolf longed to penetrate the mystery that hung over her benefactress, and she would often say to herself, as she sat propped up with pillows watching Antoinette's quiet movements about the house, "how I wish I knew more about her; what a romance!" But as her strength increased, other desires shared her thoughts more largely. "How are we to get out of this place?" she frequently exclaimed, and, as often, Antoinette would meekly reply, "The Lord will provide a way." "Well why don't the Lord provide a way to get us away from here?" she said one day rather impatiently as she sat by the window looking out into the sunshine, "I'm sure I'm well enough to travel now, and winter is coming on and, when once the snow falls, we shall freeze and starve shut up here." "We shall hardly freeze with that big wood pile at the door, or starve with a cellar full of vegetables," said Antoinette pleasantly. "O Antoinette, I'm sure your faith hangs on the cellar and woodpile; but, dear me, I've seen neither; I must peep into the cellar right away." "Let me lift the door for you Miss DeWolf." A light trap door led to the vegetable kingdom underneath. One glance at the potatoes, cabbages and onions, which were only a part of the products of the garden, piled up in this ten by twelve hole in the ground was enough, as Little Wolf declared, to strengthen the weakest faith. "Now, if we only had wings, we might mount to that nice dried venison in the garret," she said, glancing upward through a square opening cut in the rough boards overhead. "I wonder how they managed to hang it so high; I do believe the place has been inhabited by a giant. Now where shall we hide when we see him coming? O, I'll get into that huge chest, we little folks might both hide there. I wonder I hadn't thought of it before. Why I'm just beginning to feel like myself; I see how it is, I've been petted and babied too long. Please help me lift this heavy lid. O, its locked--O here's the key sticking just in this niche, O--what a sight!" Here indeed our heroine had penetrated into the mysteries of a heterogeneous mass. Cooking utensils, carpenters' tools, crockery, salt, pepper, and various other condiments used in the culinary department were huddled together in one end, while the remainder of the space was appropriated to books and clothing, and a bachelor's work box, which, for all the order it boasted, might have belonged to the indulgent mother of ten children. Antoinette watched her friend with an amused expression of countenance, as she flew from one article to another really delighted to find some amusement, however simple, to while away the tedious hours. "O, John Hanford is our landlord's name. Here it is on the fly leaf of this book, and here is a book purporting to be the property of Antoinette La Clare. Why Antoinette, I thought the honor of discovering the contents of this box belonged to me; but really I see you have been here before me."