t to eat any way!" And with these dark
hints the girls consoled themselves for their want of skill.

But the cake did bake a nice brown, Tony did turn it neatly with his
jack-knife and the stick, and when it was done cut it into bits, added
jelly, and passed it round on an old atlas; and every one said,--

"It really does taste good!"

Two more were baked, and eaten with pickles for a change, then all were
satisfied, and after a vote of thanks to Tony they began to think of
sleep.

"Pat has gone home and told them we are all right, and mamma knows we
can manage here well enough for one night, so don't worry, Gwen, but
take a nap, and I'll lie on the rug and see to the fire."

Mark's happy-go-lucky way of taking things did not convince his sister;
but as she could do nothing, she submitted and made her friends as
comfortable as she could.

All had plenty of wraps, so the girls nestled into the three large
chairs, Bob and Tony rolled themselves up in the robe, with their feet
to the fire, and were soon snoring like weary hunters. Mark pillowed his
head on a log, and was sound asleep in ten minutes in spite of his
promise to be sentinel.

Gwen's chair was the least easy of the three, and she could not forget
herself like the rest, but sat wide awake, watching the blaze, counting
the hours, and wondering why no one came to them.

The wind blew fiercely, the snow beat against the blinds, rats scuttled
about the walls, and now and then a branch fell upon the roof with a
crash. Weary, yet excited, the poor girl imagined all sorts of mishaps
to Pat and the horses, recalled various ghost stories she had heard, and
wondered if it was on such a night as this that a neighbor's house had
been robbed. So nervous did she get at last that she covered up her face
and resolutely began to count a thousand, feeling that anything was
better than having to wake Mark and own she was frightened.

Before she knew it she fell into a drowse and dreamed that they were
all cast away on an iceberg and a polar bear was coming up to devour
Gus, who innocently called to the big white dog and waited to caress
him.

"A bear! a bear! oh, boys, save him!" murmured Gwen in her sleep, and
the sound of her own distressed voice waked her.

The fire was nearly out, for she had slept longer than she knew, the
room was full of shadows, and the storm seemed to have died away. In the
silence which now reigned, unbroken even by a snore, Gwen heard a sou