doctor. Minnie May is awful bad and Young Mary Joe doesn't know
what to do--and oh, Anne, I'm so scared!"

Matthew, without a word, reached out for cap and coat, slipped
past Diana and away into the darkness of the yard.

"He's gone to harness the sorrel mare to go to Carmody for the
doctor," said Anne, who was hurrying on hood and jacket. "I know

it as well as if he'd said so. Matthew and I are such kindred
spirits I can read his thoughts without words at all."

"I don't believe he'll find the doctor at Carmody," sobbed Diana.
"I know that Dr. Blair went to town and I guess Dr. Spencer

would go too. Young Mary Joe never saw anybody with croup and
Mrs. Lynde is away. Oh, Anne!"

"Don't cry, Di," said Anne cheerily. "I know exactly what to do
for croup. You forget that Mrs. Hammond had twins three times.

When you look after three pairs of twins you naturally get a lot
of experience. They all had croup regularly. Just wait till I

get the ipecac bottle--you mayn't have any at your house. Come
on now."

The two little girls hastened out hand in hand and hurried
through Lover's Lane and across the crusted field beyond, for the

snow was too deep to go by the shorter wood way. Anne, although
sincerely sorry for Minnie May, was far from being insensible to

the romance of the situation and to the sweetness of once more
sharing that romance with a kindred spirit.

The night was clear and frosty, all ebony of shadow and silver of
snowy slope; big stars were shining over the silent fields; here

and there the dark pointed firs stood up with snow powdering
their branches and the wind whistling through them. Anne thought

it was truly delightful to go skimming through all this mystery
and loveliness with your bosom friend who had been so long

estranged.
Minnie May, aged three, was really very sick. She lay on the

kitchen sofa feverish and restless, while her hoarse breathing
could be heard all over the house. Young Mary Joe, a buxom,

broad-faced French girl from the creek, whom Mrs. Barry had
engaged to stay with the children during her absence, was

helpless and bewildered, quite incapable of thinking what to do,
or doing it if she thought of it.

Anne went to work with skill and promptness.
"Minnie May has croup all right; she's pretty bad, but I've seen

them worse. First we must have lots of hot water. I declare,
Diana, there isn't more than a cupful in the kettle! There, I've

filled it up, and, Mary Joe, you may put some wood in the stove.
I don't want to hurt your feelings but it seems to me you might

have thought of this before if you'd any imagination. Now, I'll
undress Minnie May and put her to bed and you try to find some

soft flannel cloths, Diana. I'm going to give her a dose of
ipecac first of all."

Minnie May did not take kindly to the ipecac but Anne had not
brought up three pairs of twins for nothing. Down that ipecac

went, not only once, but many times during the long, anxious
night when the two little girls worked patiently over the

suffering Minnie May, and Young Mary Joe, honestlyanxious to do
all she could, kept up a roaring fire and heated more water than

would have been needed for a hospital of croupy babies.
It was three o'clock when Matthew came with a doctor, for he had

been obliged to go all the way to Spencervale for one. But the
pressing need for assistance was past. Minnie May was much

better and was sleeping soundly.
"I was awfully near giving up in despair," explained Anne. "She

got worse and worse until she was sicker than ever the Hammond
twins were, even the last pair. I actually thought she was going

to choke to death. I gave her every drop of ipecac in that
bottle and when the last dose went down I said to myself--not to

Diana or Young Mary Joe, because I didn't want to worry them any
more than they were worried, but I had to say it to myself just

to relieve my feelings--`This is the last lingering hope and I
fear, tis a vain one.' But in about three minutes she coughed up

the phlegm and began to get better right away. You must just
imagine my relief, doctor, because I can't express it in words.

You know there are some things that cannot be expressed in words."
"Yes, I know," nodded the doctor. He looked at Anne as if he

were thinking some things about her that couldn't be expressed in
words. Later on, however, he expressed them to Mr. and Mrs. Barry.

"That little redheaded girl they have over at Cuthbert's is as
smart as they make 'em. I tell you she saved that baby's life,

for it would have been too late by the time I got there. She
seems to have a skill and presence of mind perfectly wonderful in

a child of her age. I never saw anything like the eyes of her
when she was explaining the case to me."

Anne had gone home in the wonderful, white-frosted winter
morning, heavy eyed from loss of sleep, but still talking

unweariedly to Matthew as they crossed the long white field and
walked under the glittering fairy arch of the Lover's Lane

maples.
"Oh, Matthew, isn't it a wonderful morning? The world looks like

something God had just imagined for His own pleasure, doesn't it?
Those trees look as if I could blow them away with a

breath--pouf! I'm so glad I live in a world where there are white
frosts, aren't you? And I'm so glad Mrs. Hammond had three pairs

of twins after all. If she hadn't I mightn't have known what to
do for Minnie May. I'm real sorry I was ever cross with Mrs.

Hammond for having twins. But, oh, Matthew, I'm so sleepy. I
can't go to school. I just know I couldn't keep my eyes open and

I'd be so stupid. But l hate to stay home, for Gil--some of the
others will get head of the class, and it's so hard to get up

again--although of course the harder it is the more satisfaction
you have when you do get up, haven't you?"

"Well now, I guess you'll manage all right," said Matthew,
looking at Anne's white little face and the dark shadows under

her eyes. "You just go right to bed and have a good sleep. I'll
do all the chores."

Anne accordingly went to bed and slept so long and soundly that
it was well on in the white and rosy winter afternoon when she

awoke and descended to the kitchen where Marilla, who had arrived
home in the meantime, was sitting knitting.

"Oh, did you see the Premier?" exclaimed Anne at once. "What did
he look like Marilla?"

"Well, he never got to be Premier on account of his looks," said
Marilla. "Such a nose as that man had! But he can speak. I was

proud of being a Conservative. Rachel Lynde, of course, being a
Liberal, had no use for him. Your dinner is in the oven, Anne,

and you can get yourself some blue plum preserve out of the
pantry. I guess you're hungry. Matthew has been telling me

about last night. I must say it was fortunate you knew what to
do. I wouldn't have had any idea myself, for I never saw a case

of croup. There now, never mind talking till you've had your
dinner. I can tell by the look of you that you're just full

up with speeches, but they'll keep."
Marilla had something to tell Anne, but she did not tell it just

then for she knew if she did Anne's consequentexcitement would
lift her clear out of the region of such material matters as

appetite or dinner. Not until Anne had finished her saucer of
blue plums did Marilla say:

"Mrs. Barry was here this afternoon, Anne. She wanted to see