Under the Big Dipper

and simpler in the country than they are in the city.

Their meditations were disturbed by the sound of footfalls on the mushy snow. It was Donald emerging from the wood, rifle under his arm.

The girls greeted him smilingly.

“Fine morning, ladies, but kind o’ mean under-foot,” and he smiled a little sheepishly as he stood before them. They relieved him of his shyness by encouraging nods.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Mr. Morton told me to look after you.”

“Nothing, thank you,” replied Helène; “we are quite comfortable and enjoying the splendid air.”

Both, however, were hoping he would not go away. They longed for some companionship rather than their own—some other human being who would speak to them and tell them things—anything. Helène caught the Princess’s eyes and saw the same desire in them.

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