"Betty," gasped Migwan, turning white, "you don't mean that you've
burned them?"

"That's what I do mean," said Betty coolly. "I'll show you if you can
treat me like a baby."

Migwan stood as if turned to stone. She could hardly believe that those
fair pages, which represented so many hours of patient work, had been
swept away in one moment of passion. Blindly she turned, and putting on
her wraps, walked from the house without a word. It seemed to her that
Fate had decreed that nothing which she undertook should succeed.
Discouragement settled down on her like a black pall. With the ability
to do things which should set her above her fellows, she was being
relentlessly pursued by some strange fatality which marked every effort
of hers a failure. She walked aimlessly up street after street without
any idea where she was going, entirely oblivious to her surroundings.
Wandering thus, she discovered that she was in the park, and had come
out on the high bluff of the lake. She stood moodily looking down at the
vast field of ice that such a short time before had been tossing waves.
The lake, to all appearances, was frozen solid out as far as the
one-mile crib. There was a curious stillness in the air, as when the
clock had stopped, due to the absence of the noise made by the waves
dashing on the rocks. Nothing had ever appealed so to Migwan as did the
absolute silence and solitude of that frozen lake. Her bruised young
spirit was weary of contact with people, and found balm in this icy
desert where there was so sound of a human voice. As far as the eye
could see there was not a living being in sight. A skating carnival in
the other end of the park drew the attention of all who were abroad on
this Saturday afternoon, and kept them away from the lake front.