This time she had not such good luck for she drew Whiskers-on-the-moon.
"Is that Miranda?
Oh--Mr.Pryor! Well, Mr.Pryor, will you kindly ask Miranda if she can come up this afternoon and help me with some sewing.
It is very important, or I would not trouble her.

Oh--thank you." Mr.Pryor had consented somewhat grumpily, but he had consented--he did not want to offend Dr.Blythe, and he knew that if he refused to allow Miranda to do any Red Cross work public opinion would make the Glen too hot for comfort.

Rilla went out to the kitchen, shut all the doors with a mysterious expression which alarmed Susan, and then said solemnly, "Susan can you make a wedding-cake this afternoon ?" "A wedding-cake!" Susan stared.

Rilla had, without any warning, brought her a war-baby once upon a time.

Was she now, with equal suddenness, going to produce a husband?
"Yes, a wedding-cake--a scrumptious wedding-cake, Susan--a beautiful, plummy, eggy, citron-peely wedding-cake.