"Take me with you! I can't stay here any longer--I shall go crazy!" She
turned her head to listen. "Isn't some one coming? Look out and see! I
hear bells!"
Burke tried to soothe her in his timid, clumsy fashion.
"There, there, now--sit down. You ain't well, Blanche. I'll ask Mrs.
Bussy to come--"
She suddenly seemed to remember something. "Don't talk to her. Go to
Craig's. Don't go to Bussy's--please don't! I hate her. I won't be in
her debt."
This pleading tone puzzled him, but he promised; and, hitching up his
thin, old horses, drove around to the door of the shanty. Blanche came
out, dressed to go with him, but when she felt the edge of the wind she
shrank. Her lips turned blue and she cowered back against the side of
the cabin, holding her shawl like a shield before her bosom. "I can't do
it! It's too cold! I'd freeze to death. You'll have to go alone."
Burke was relieved. "Yes, you'd better stay," he said, and drove off.
Blanche crept back into the shanty and bent above the stove, shivering
violently.
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