difficulty and peril. He
crossed the kitchen-yard with long, easy strides.

But Martha was running after him, bareheaded. She lost a carpet slipper
in the deep snow.

"Only come back, darlint"--she fought against tears--"and I'll fill the
house with helpers from attic to cellar."

"One," said the Poor Boy judicially, "will do. The nearest employment
bureau will be in Quebec. Isn't there somebody in the village?"

"In the village! In Quebec!"

[Illustration: "Only come back, darlint"--she fought against tears--"and
I'll fill the house with helpers from attic to cellar."]

Her indignation was tremendous.

"This side of New York there's not a gentleman's servant to be had,"
said she, "and but few there. I'll have to go meself."

"Couldn't you write?"

"Full well you know that I can only make me mark, and never the twicet
alike."

"Well," said the Poor Boy, "the change will do you good, and I'll camp
out in the house instead of in the woods till you come back. It will be
easier, and ever so much safer."

The next day, looking very grand in her furs and feathers, old Martha
started for New York. As the man from the village drove her through the
woods to the little railroad station the tears froze on her veil.

VI

Old Martha was longer in New York than she had intended to be. There
were plenty of servants out of work on the lists of the various
employment agencies which she visited. But Martha's requirements were
such as the average servant can not meet or will not face, and
candidates for the place and wages she offered asked questions and were
not satisfied with her answers.

"And where is the house?"

"Canada."

"Is it a city?"

"It's country."

"Are there neighbors?"

"No."

"What manner of man is the master?"

"A fine, kind man."

"Married?"

"Single."

"An old man?"

"A young man. But you'll not see the master."

"Me work for a man I don't see?"

"He don't see nobody but me."

"What ails him?"

"Nothing. 'Tis his way. He's shy o' people."

"There'll be no company, then?"

"None."

"What men will there be to help about the place?"

"The men that drive in from the village with supplies."

"How far off is the village?"

"Twelve miles. When they can't drive they come in on snow-shoes."

"Hum!"

"What more can I tell you?"

"You've told enough. I would not touch the place with a pole, not for
twice the wages. I'd rather be dead than twelve miles from everywhere