he solitary place shall be glad--and a highway shall
be there--and a way.'" The confused words fell into a crooning song.

"Solitary Place----" Mary-Clare drifted to it, her eyes closed
wearily, but she smiled and Peneluna believed that she had found The
Way. Whether it wound back or out--well! Peneluna turned to her task
of nursing. She had the gift of healing and she had an understanding
heart, and so she took command.

It was a rough and difficult Way and beset with dangers. A physician
came and diagnosed the case.

"Bad fall--almost concussion."

Aunt Polly came and shared the nursing. Jan-an mechanically attended
to the house while Uncle Peter took Noreen under his care.

The dull, uneventful days dragged on before Mary-Clare came back to
her own. One day she said to Jan-an, "I--I want you to go to the
cabin, Jan-an. I have given it--back to God. Close the windows and
doors--for winter has come!"

Jan-an nodded. She believed Mary-Clare was "passing out"--she was
frightened and superstitious. She did not pause to explain to
Peneluna, in the next room, where she was going, but covering her head
and shoulders with an old shawl, she rushed forth.

It was bitingly cold and the dry twigs struck against the girl's face
like ice. The ghost-wind added terror to the hour, but Jan-an
struggled on.

When she reached the cabin it was nearly dark--the empty room was
haunted by memories and there were little scurrying creatures darting
about. Standing in the centre of the room, Jan-an raised her clenched
hands and extended them as if imploring a Presence. If Mary-Clare had
given the Place back to God, then it might be that God was there close
and--listening. Jan-an became possessed by the spiritual. She lifted
her faithful, yearning eyes and spoke aloud.

"God!" She waited. Then: "God, I'm trusting and I ain't afraid--much!
God, listen! I fling this to Your face. Yer raised Lazarus and others
from the dead and Mary-Clare ain't dead yet--can't Yer--save her? Hear
me! hear me!"

Surely God heard and made answer, for that night Mary-Clare's Way
turned back again toward the little yellow house.

When she was able, Aunt Polly insisted that she be moved to the inn.

"It will make less trouble all around and Peneluna will stay on."

So they went to the inn, and the winter settled down upon the Forest
and the Point and the mines. The lake was frozen and became a
glittering highway; children skated; sleighs darted here and