"Yes, Mary had a letter from him. He's working in a lumber camp and
'shacking it,' whatever that means. Anyway, he says he can't possibly
take the children till the spring. He expects to be married then and
will have a home to take them to; but he says she must get some of the
neighbors to keep them for the winter. She says she can't bear to ask
any of them. Mary never got on any too well with the East Grafton people
and that's a fact. And the long and short of it is, Anne, that I'm
sure Mary wants me to take those children . . . she didn't say so but she
LOOKED it."

"Oh!" Anne clasped her hands, all athrill with excitement. "And of
course you will, Marilla, won't you?"

"I haven't made up my mind," said Marilla rather tartly. "I don't rush
into things in your headlong way, Anne. Third cousinship is a pretty
slim claim. And it will be a fearful responsibility to have two children
of six years to look after . . . twins, at that."

Marilla had an idea that twins were just twice as bad as single
children.

"Twins are very interesting . . . at least one pair of them," said Anne.
"It's only when there are two or three pairs that it gets monotonous.
And I think it would be real nice for you to have something to amuse you
when I'm away in school."

"I don't reckon there'd be much amusement in it . . . more worry and
bother than anything else, I should say. It wouldn't be so risky if they
were even as old as you were when I took you. I wouldn't mind Dora so