by the window, looking out over the ice. The boys,
dismissed from their bench, had, with the sagacity of the dogs, gone
immediately to the kitchen. The soft voice of Tita was repeating
something which sounded like a litany to the Virgin, full of mystic
phrases, a selection made by the child herself, the priest requiring no
such recitation, but listening, as usual, patiently, with his eyes half
closed, as the old-time school-teacher listened to Wirt's description of
Blennerhasset's Island. Pere Michaux had no mystical tendencies. His
life was too busy; in the winter it was too cold, and in the summer the
sunshine was too brilliant, on his Northern island, for mystical
thoughts. At present, through Tita's recitation, his mind was occupied
with a poor fisherman's family over on the mainland, to whom on the
morrow he was going to send assistance. The three boys came round on the
outside, and peered through the windows to see whether the lesson was
finished. Anne ordered them back by gesture, for they were bareheaded,
and their little faces red with the cold. But they pressed their noses
against the panes, glared at Tita, and shook their fists. "It's all
ready," they said, in sepulchral tones, putting their mouths to the
crack under the sash, "and it's a pudding. Tell her to hurry up, Annet."

But Tita's murmuring voice went steadily on, and the Protestant sister
would not interrupt the little Catholic's recitation; she shook her head
at the boys, and motioned to them to go back to the kitchen. But they
danced up and down to warm themselves, rubbed their little red ears with
their hands, and then returned to the crack, and roared in chorus, "Tell
her to hurry up; we shall not have time to eat it."

"True," said Pere Michaux, overhearing this triple remonstrance. "That
will do for to-day, Tita."

"But I have not finished, my father."

"Another time, child."

"I shall recite it, then, at the next lesson, and learn besides as much
more; and the interruption was not of my making, but a crime of those
sacrilegious boys," said Tita, gathering her books together. The boys,
seeing Pere Michaux rise from his chair, ran back round the house to
announce the tidings to Pierre; the priest came forward to the window.

"That is the mail-train, is it not?" said Anne, looking at a black spot
coming up the Strait from the east.

"It is due," said Pere Michaux; "but the weather has been so cold that I
hardly expected it to-day." He took