"How do you do, Miss Nelson?" he said, quietly, touching his fur cap. "You--I'm afraid you've had a mighty cold ride. What's happened to Stefan to make him go back? Lost something on the road, has he?" "I--I'm afraid I'm the only lost thing around here," she said, seeking to hold back the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. "Oh! I think--I think I'm becoming mad!" she suddenly cried out, bitterly. "Is--is that your--your house, the--the residence you spoke of?" "The--the residence!" he repeated. "And I spoke of it, did I? Well, I suppose that anything with a roof on it is a residence, if you come to that. Yes, that's it, the little shack among the birches, and you'd better come in till Stefan gets back, for it's mighty cold here and--and if you're from New York you're not used to this sort of thing. It's the best I can offer you, but I really never thought it worth talking about. It's the slight improvement on a dog-kennel that we folks have to be contented with, in these parts. Come right in; you look half frozen." "And--and that is the sort of place you've brought me to?" she cried, her eyes now flashing at him in anger. "Well, it seems to me that it's Stefan that brought you," he replied, rather abashed. "That--that's only a mean quibble," she retorted, hotly. "And--and where's the town--or the village--and the other people, the friends who were to greet me?" The young man was beginning to feel rather provoked at her questions. "The nearest settlers are a short mile away,--the Papineaus, very decent French Canadians. Tom Carew's shack you must have passed on your way here. The only village, of course, is Carcajou, and that's twelve long miles away. But Mrs. Papineau is a real good old soul, if that's where you expect to stop. A dozen kids about the place but they're jolly little beggars. Her husband's trapping now, I believe, but of course I'll take you up there." At this she seemed to feel somewhat relieved. It was evident that she was in no great peril. Yet she looked again at his shack, with her lower lip in the bite of her teeth. "You--you didn't really believe I'd come," she said, her mouth quivering. "You--you were just making fun of me, I see, with--with that residence and--and the ladies who were ready to welcome me. Where are they?" Ennis was scratching his head, or the cap over it, as he stared again at her. He realized that some amazing, terrible mistake must have been made, as he thought--or that this girl must be the victim of some dreadful misunderstanding, if not of a foul plot. He began to pity her. She looked so weak, so helpless, in spite of the anger she had shown. "There--there are no ladies," he said, lamely, "except Mrs. Papineau and Mrs. Carew. They're first-rate women, both of 'em. And of course Mrs. Papineau is your only resource till to-morrow, unless Stefan is coming back for you." "He isn't," she declared. "I said nothing about going back."