, not feeling any secret sting. She mimicked poor Sam to Janet
that night, and both of them laughed immoderately over his plunge into
sentiment.

One afternoon, when Anne's sojourn in Valley Road was drawing to a
close, Alec Ward came driving down to "Wayside" in hot haste for Janet.

"They want you at the Douglas place quick," he said. "I really believe
old Mrs. Douglas is going to die at last, after pretending to do it for
twenty years."

Janet ran to get her hat. Anne asked if Mrs. Douglas was worse than
usual.

"She's not half as bad," said Alec solemnly, "and that's what makes me
think it's serious. Other times she'd be screaming and throwing herself
all over the place. This time she's lying still and mum. When Mrs.
Douglas is mum she is pretty sick, you bet."

"You don't like old Mrs. Douglas?" said Anne curiously.

"I like cats as IS cats. I don't like cats as is women," was Alec's
cryptic reply.

Janet came home in the twilight.

"Mrs. Douglas is dead," she said wearily. "She died soon after I got
there. She just spoke to me once--'I suppose you'll marry John now?' she
said. It cut me to the heart, Anne. To think John's own mother thought
I wouldn't marry him because of her! I couldn't say a word either--there
were other women there. I was thankful John had gone out."

Janet began to cry drearily. But Anne brewed her a hot drink of ginger
tea to her comforting. To be sure, Anne discovered later on that she
had used white pepper instead of ginger; but Janet never knew the
difference.

The evening after the funeral Janet and Anne were sitting on the front
porch steps at sunset. The wind had fallen asleep in the pinelands and
lurid sheets of heat-lightning flickered across the northern skies.
Janet wore her ugly black dress and looked her very worst, her eyes and
nose red from crying. They talked little, for Janet seemed faintly
to resent Anne's efforts to cheer her up. She plainly preferred to be
miserable.

Suddenly the gate-latch clicked and John Douglas strode into the garden.
He walked towards them straight over the geranium bed. Janet stood
up. So did Anne. Anne was a tall girl and wore a white dress; but John
Douglas did not see her.

"Janet," he said, "will you marry me?"

The words burst out as if they had been wanting to be said for twenty
years and MUST be uttered now, before anything else.

Janet's face was so red from crying that it couldn't turn any redder, so
it turned a most unbec