unknown quantities at every step, which will be just as instructive."

Miss Wayland could refuse nothing to the heroine of last night's
adventure. Behold Maine, therefore, triumphant, sallying forth, clad
once more in her blanket suit, and dragging her sled behind her.

There was no struggling now--no hand-to-hand wrestling with
storm-demons. The sun laughed from a sky as blue and deep as her own
sky of Maine, and the girl laughed with him as she walked along, the
powdery snow flying in a cloud from her snow-shoes at every step.

Such a sight had never been seen in Mentor village before. The
people came running to their upper windows--their lower ones were
for the most part buried in snow--and stared with all their eyes at
the strange apparition.

In the street, life was beginning to stir. People had found,
somewhat to their own surprise, that they were alive and well after
the blizzard; and knots of men were clustered here and there,
discussing the storm, while some were already at work tunnelling
through the drifts.

Mr. Perkins, the butcher, had just got his door open, and great was
his amazement when Maine hailed him from the top of a great drift,
and demanded a quarter of mutton with some soup meat.

[Illustration: "MAINE HAILED HIM FROM THE TOP OF A GREAT DRIFT."]

"Yes, miss!" he stammered, open-mouthed with astonishment. "I--I've
got the meat; but I wasn't--my team isn't out this morning. I don't