working by lamp-light The prairies were
brown and forbidding, the sky often a mere
gray pall. The monotony of the life began
to seem terrible. Sometimes her ears ached
for a sound. For a time in the summer so
many had seemed to need her that she had
been happy in spite of her poverty and her
loneliness. Now, suddenly, no one wanted
her. She could find no source of inspiration.
She wondered how she was going to live
through the winter, and keep her patience
and her good-nature.

"You'll love me," she said, almost fiercely,
one night to the children -- "you'll love
mamma, no matter how cross and homely
she gets, won't you?"

The cold grew day by day. A strong
winter was setting in. Catherine took up
her study of medicine again, and sat over
her books till midnight. It occurred to her
that she might fit herself for nursing by
spring, and that the children could be put
with some one -- she did not dare to think
with whom. But this was the only solution
she could find to her problem of existence.

November settled down drearily. Few
passed the shack. Catherine, who had no