d roots were put into a huge iron kettle,
the kettle filled with water, and hung over the fire. When it had
boiled for several hours there would be a good scarlet dye in which
the new blankets would be dipped. Then they would be hung to dry in
the shed.

The next day the sun came out and shone brightly down on a white and
glistening world, and that afternoon Mr. Trent came to take Louise
home. He would not come in, but waited at the door until she was ready
to go. But he thanked Mrs. Scott for all her kindness to his little
daughter.

Faith was quite sure that Mr. Trent must be sorry to be a Tory instead
of a loyal American. "But I suppose he can't help it," she decided,
and always thought of her friend's father as unfortunate.

Faith and Louise always had so many things to talk about that they
seldom spoke of the redcoats; and when they did Louise seemed to
dislike them more than Faith herself.

Faith and Donald both had snow-shoes, and on their way to school, a
few days later, Faith stopped at the shoemaker's door. But there was
no response to her knock, and when she tried the door it would not
open. She wondered where Louise and her father could be, but not until
the next day did she hear that the shoemaker and Louise had left their
home, apparently not to return. They had gone with a number of English
families, on sledges, down the river, without a good-bye to the kind
friends who had grown to love the little lame girl.

"I know Louise couldn't help it," Faith declared, when Aunt Prissy
told her the news. "She will write to me, I know she will," but it was
a long time before any word came to her from her little friend. And
now Faith became more and more eager for March to come, that she might
once more see her father and mother, and make some attempt to send a
message to Ethan Allen.

CHAPTER XVII

FAITH AGAIN VISITS THE FORT

The night after hearing that Louise had gone Faith felt more nearly
homesick than at any time since her arrival at her aunt's house.
Everything seemed to remind her of her friend. Even "Lady Amy" made
her remember that Louise had never owned a doll of her own.

"And I had meant to give Louise one of my strings of blue beads just
as soon as I had asked Aunt Prissy," she thought, regretfully, holding
up the pretty beads, and recalling how much Louise had admired them.

"Aunt Prissy," she called, running down the stairs and into the
sitting-room, "may I not give Louise one of