on the wishes of war-brides. The door
opened and Mrs. Blythe came in, her arms full of a filmy burden.

"Miranda dear," she said, "I want you to wear my wedding-veil tomorrow.
It is twenty-four years since I was a bride at old Green Gables--the
happiest bride that ever was--and the wedding-veil of a happy bride
brings good luck, they say."

"Oh, how sweet of you, Mrs. Blythe," said Miranda, the ready tears
starting to her eyes.

The veil was tried on and draped. Susan dropped in to approve but dared
not linger.

"I've got that cake in the oven," she said, "and I am pursuing a policy
of watchful waiting. The evening news is that the Grand Duke has
captured Erzerum. That is a pill for the Turks. I wish I had a chance
to tell the Czar just what a mistake he made when he turned Nicholas
down."

Susan disappeared downstairs to the kitchen, whence a dreadful thud and
a piercing shriek presently sounded. Everybody rushed to the
kitchen--the doctor and Miss Oliver, Mrs. Blythe, Rilla, Miranda in her
wedding-veil. Susan was sitting flatly in the middle of the kitchen
floor with a dazed, bewildered look on her face, while Doc, evidently
in his Hyde incarnation, was standing on the dresser, with his back up,
his eyes blazing, and his tail the size of three tails.

"Susan, what has happened?" cried Mrs. Blythe in alarm. "Did you fall?
Are you hurt?"

Susan picked herself up.

"No," she said grimly, "I am not hurt, though I am jarred all over. Do
not be alarmed. As for what has happened--I tried to kick that darned
cat with both feet, that is what happened."

Everybody shrieked with laughter. The doctor was quite helpless.

"Oh, Susan, Susan," he gasped. "That I should live to hear you swear."

"I am sorry," said Susan in real distress, "that I used such an
expression before two young girls. But I said that beast was darned,
and darned it is. It belongs to Old Nick."

"Do you expect it will vanish some of these days with a bang and the
odour of brimstone, Susan?"

"It will go to its own place in due time and that you may tie to," said
Susan dourly, shaking out her raddled bones and going to her oven. "I
suppose my plunking down like that has shaken my cake so that it will
be as heavy as lead."

But the cake was not heavy. It was all a bride's cake should be, and
Susan iced it beautifully. Next day she and Rilla worked all the
forenoon, making delicacies for the wedding-feast, and as soon as
Miranda phoned up that