At first, when she'd been forced to take care of Mrs. Hammond's three sets of twins in a row, she'd considered herself cursed by twins. She'd apologized for her anger at Mrs. Hammond's many twins when the skills she'd acquired in taking care of them had helped her save Minnie May's life, thus restoring her good grace with Mrs. Barry, still; as a little girl of no more than ten years carrying around with one set of twins after the other had been rather tiresome for her arms.
Later, when Marilla had adopted Davy and Dora Keith, she'd begun to think that maybe twins weren't only a curse. Surely Davy had been extremely mischievous at first, always doing something he shouldn't do and rarely doing as he was supposed to do, but he'd always been a good boy who'd grown into a rather handsome young man. Perhaps if his sister Dora had been equally mischievous the 'curse thought' would've lingered, but Dora was as well-behaved as her brother was misbehaved.
Now, as she lay in her bed looking at the two happy little bundles by her side, Anne Blythe was no longer in doubt; she was definitely blessed by twins. Of course by now she couldn't know how her little girls would be when they grew older, if they'd inherited any of their mother's personality they surely wouldn't be completely free of trouble. No matter how they grew up to be she would love them, as she already loved her two big boys who were now entering the room with their father, starring in wonder when they realized there were two babies.