“I expect that what you have really got in your bones is a touch of rheumatism from wading through wet snow,” Mrs. Burton said anxiously.  “Dear, you must take care of yourself, for what would become of us all if you were to fall ill?”

Katherine laughed, only there was not much mirth in the sound.  “There is nothing the matter with me, nor likely to be, for I am tough as shoe leather; only sometimes my temper gets knobby, because all the children I can find to teach are grown-up babies of thirty and forty, who prefer flirting to arithmetic, and have to be continually snubbed in order to keep them in their places.  The stupid creatures make me so angry!”

“Poor Katherine!  It is hard on you, for you are certainly much too good-looking to teach a night school; but, on the other hand, what a good thing it has been for the men to have the school to occupy their evenings,” said Mrs. Burton.  “Mrs. Jenkin was saying only yesterday that there has not been half so much drinking and gambling at Seal Cove this winter as there was last year, because the men would rather come here and listen to your lectures on history and geography.”

“They are willing enough to listen, and will sit looking as stupid as a school of white whales, caught in a stake trap,” replied Katherine.  “But see what dunces some of them are when I try to knock a little arithmetic into their thick heads.”

“Yes, I will admit they are rather dense; and you are very much more patient with them than I should be, I’m afraid,” Mrs. Burton said with a sigh.  The night school had privately been a very great trial to her, for since ’Duke Radford’s indifferent health had caused him to lie in bed so much, it had been impossible to use the room off the store as schoolroom, and so for two hours every evening the family living-room had been invaded by a swarm of more or less unwashed men, whose habits were not always of the most refined description.

“The need for patience will soon be over now,” Katherine said, understanding the cause of the sigh, although Mrs. Burton had uttered no spoken complaint.  “Miles says the men were beginning to break the boats out yesterday, and it is raining now, which will help matters on a great deal, unless, indeed, it rains too long, and then we may have floods.”

“Oh dear, I hope not!” replied Mrs. Burton with a shiver, for spring floods were no joke in that part of the world.  “By the way, has Miles told you that he saw the Englishman to-day?”

“What Englishman?” demanded Katherine, with dismay in her tone, for her thoughts immediately flew to Mr. Selincourt; only, of course, it was not possible that he could arrive before June.

“Didn’t you hear that an Englishman came through from Maxokama with the Indians who brought up the mail?” said Mrs. Burton in surprise.

“Not a word.  But certainly he must be a plucky sort of person to have ventured a journey of four hundred miles on snowshoes.  Do you know who he is?” Katherine asked with quickened interest.