was only a child.

"I don't like dark days," Pearl said, thoughtfully, looking away
toward the snow-covered Tiger Hills, that lay glimmering in the soft
afternoon sunshine.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Then suddenly Pearl turned
and met his gaze, and the colour in her cheeks was not all caused by
the bright spring sun as she said, "I think, it is usually pretty
fine on the first of March."

* * *

Before Libby Anne had been a week in the tent Mrs. Burrell came to
offer consolation and to express her hopes for Libby Anne's recovery.
Mrs. Burrell considered herself a very successful sick-visitor. In
the kitchen, where she went first, she found Martha preparing a
chicken for Libby Anne's dinner.

"It's really too bad for you to have so much to do, Martha," she
began, when the greetings were over; "a young girl like you should be
getting ready for a home of her own. Living single is all right when
you're young, but it's different when you begin to get along in life.
There's that young Englishman--, what's his name?--the one that his
girl went back on him--he couldn't do better now than take you. I've
heard people say so."

"Oh don't!" Martha cried, flushing Martha lacked the saving sense of
humour.

Mrs. Burrell did not see the pain in the girl's face, and went on
briskly, "I must go in and see Libby Anne and Mrs. Cavers. Of course
I think it is very unwise to let every one go in to see the sick, but
for a woman like me that has had experience it is different. I'll try
to cheer them up, both of them."

"Oh, they're all right," Martha exclaimed in alarm. "They do not need
any cheering. Pearl Watson is in the tent just now."

Martha's cheeks were still smarting with the "cheering" that Mrs.
Burrell had just given her, and she trembled for Libby Anne and Mrs.
Cavers.

Mrs. Burrell went into the tent resolved to be the very soul of
cheerfulness, a real sunshine-dispenser.

Mrs. Cavers was genuinely glad to see her, for she had found out how
kind Mrs. Burrell really was at heart.

"Oh, what a comfortable and cosy place for a sick little girl," she
began gaily, "and a nice friend like Pearlie Watson to tell her
stories. Wouldn't I like to be sick and get such a nice rest."

Libby Anne smiled. "You can come and stay with me," she said
hospitably.

Mrs. Burrell put her basket on the bed. "Everything in it is for
Libby Anne," she said, "and Libby Anne must take them out herself.
Pearl will help her