d would turn her face to the wall, that her mother might
not see her, and cry quietly in her loneliness.

Without Bob's help, Richard Gray was very busy now. The fishing season
was ended, but there was wood to be cut and much to be done in
preparation for the long winter close at hand. He went early each
morning to his work, and only returned to the cabin with the dusk of
evening. This home-coming of the father was the one bright period of
the day for Emily, and during the dreary hours that preceded it, she
looked forward with pleasure and longing to the moment when he should
open the door, and call out to her,

"An' how's my little maid been th'day? Has she been lonesome without
her daddy?"

And she would always answer, "I's been fine, but dreadful lonesome
without daddy."

Then he would kiss her, and sit down for a little while by her couch,
before he ate his supper, to tell her of the trivial happenings out of
doors, while he caressed her by stroking her hair gently back from her
forehead. After the meal the three would chat for an hour or so while
he smoked his pipe and Mrs. Gray washed the dishes. Then before they
went to their rest he would laboriously read a selection from the
Bible, and afterwards, on his knees by Emily's couch, thank God for
His goodness to them and ask for His protection, always ending with
the petition,

"An', Lard, look after th' lad an' keep he safe from th' Nascaupees
an' all harm; an' heal th' maid an' make she well, for, Lard, you must
be knowin' what a good little maid she is."

Emily never heard this prayer without feeling an absolute confidence
that it would be answered literally, for God was very real to her, and
she had the complete, unshattered faith of childhood.

Late in October the father went to his trapping trail, and after that
was only home for a couple of days each fortnight. There was no
pleasant evening hour now for Emily and her mother to look forward to.
The men of the bay were all away at their hunting trails, and no
callers ever came to break the monotony of their life, save once in a
while Douglas Campbell would tramp over the ice the eight miles from
Kenemish to spend an afternoon and cheer them up.

Emily missed Bob more than ever, since her father had gone, but she
was usually very patient and cheerful. For hours at a time she would
think of his home-coming, and thrill with the joy of it. In her fancy
she would see him as he would look when he came in af