"There, there, now--sit down. You ain't well, Blanche. I'll ask Mrs. Bussy to come--" She suddenly seemed to remember something. "Don't talk to her. Go to Craig's. Don't go to Bussy's--please don't! I hate her. I won't be in her debt." This pleading tone puzzled him, but he promised; and, hitching up his thin, old horses, drove around to the door of the shanty. Blanche came out, dressed to go with him, but when she felt the edge of the wind she shrank. Her lips turned blue and she cowered back against the side of the cabin, holding her shawl like a shield before her bosom. "I can't do it! It's too cold! I'd freeze to death. You'll have to go alone." Burke was relieved. "Yes, you'd better stay," he said, and drove off. Blanche crept back into the shanty and bent above the stove, shivering violently. She drew a long breath now and then like a grieving child. Life was over for her. She had reached the point where nothing mattered. She sat there until the sound of bells aroused her. "It's Jim!" she called, and rose to her feet, her face radiant with relief. Rivers came rushing up to the door in a two-horse sleigh and leaped out with a shout of greeting, though he could not see her at the frosted window. A moment later he burst in, vigorous, smiling, defiant of the cold. "Hello! All alone? How are you?" A quick warmth ran through her chilled limbs, and she lifted her hands to him. "Oh, Jim, I'm so glad you came!" "Keep away--I'm all snow," he warningly called, as he threw off his cap and buffalo coat. "Now come to me," he said, and took her in his arms. "How are you, sweetheart? I can't kiss you--my mustache is all ice. Where's Burke?" "Gone to Craig's." He winked jovially while pulling the icicles from his long mustache. "I thought I saw him driving across the ridge. I was on my way to the store, but when I saw his old rack-a-bone team I turned off to see you. How are you?" he asked, tenderly, and his voice swept away all her reserve. "Oh, Jim, I'm not well. You must take me away, _right off_. I can't stay here another day--_not a day_." He looked at her keenly. "Why? What's the matter?" She evaded his eyes. "It's so lonesome here--" Then she dropped all evasion: "You know why--Jim, take me away. I can't live without you _now_. I'm going to be sick." He understood her very well. His eyes fell and his face knotted in sudden gravity. "I was afraid of that--that's why I came. Yes, you must get out of here at once." She understood him. "Oh, Jim, you won't leave me now, will you?" "No. I didn't say anything about leaving you." He put his arm around her. "I'm not that kind of a man. You and I were built for each other--I felt that on that first ride. I guess it's up to me to take you out of this." He broke off his emotional utterance and grew keen and alert.