o before. All the tears that she hadn't shed all
that week came then. She cried most of last night, I think, but her
face this morning looked as if she had seen a vision of some kind, and
we were all so happy that we were almost afraid.

"Di and Nan are home for a couple of weeks. Then they go back to Red
Cross work in the training camp at Kingsport. I envy them. Father says
I'm doing just as good work here, with Jims and my Junior Reds. But it
lacks the romance theirs must have.

"Kut has fallen. It was almost a relief when it did fall, we had been
dreading it so long. It crushed us flat for a day and then we picked up
and put it behind us. Cousin Sophia was as gloomy as usual and came
over and groaned that the British were losing everywhere.

"'They're good losers,' said Susan grimly. 'When they lose a thing they
keep on looking till they find it again! Anyhow, my king and country
need me now to cut potato sets for the back garden, so get you a knife
and help me, Sophia Crawford. It will divert your thoughts and keep you
from worrying over a campaign that you are not called upon to run.'

"Susan is an old brick, and the way she flattens out poor Cousin Sophia
is beautiful to behold.

"As for Verdun, the battle goes on and on, and we see-saw between hope
and fear. But I know that strange dream of Miss Oliver's foretold the
victory of France. 'They shall not pass.'"

CHAPTER XX

NORMAN DOUGLAS SPEAKS OUT IN MEETING

"Where are you wandering, Anne o' mine?" asked the doctor, who even
yet, after twenty-four years of marriage, occasionally addressed his
wife thus when nobody was about. Anne was sitting on the veranda steps,
gazing absently over the wonderful bridal world of spring blossom,
Beyond the white orchard was a copse of dark young firs and creamy wild
cherries, where the robins were whistling madly; for it was evening and
the fire of early stars was burning over the maple grove.

Anne came back with a little sigh.

"I was just taking relief from intolerable realities in a dream,
Gilbert--a dream that all our children were home again--and all small
again--playing in Rainbow Valley. It is always so silent now--but I was
imagining I heard clear voices and gay, childish sounds coming up as I
used to. I could hear Jem's whistle and Walter's yodel, and the twins'
laughter, and for just a few blessed minutes I forgot about the guns on
the Western front, and had a little false, sweet happiness."

The doct