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diff --git a/3796.txt b/3796.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4106bdf --- /dev/null +++ b/3796.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11305 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rilla of Ingleside, by Lucy Maud Montgomery + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rilla of Ingleside + +Author: Lucy Maud Montgomery + +Posting Date: May 19, 2009 [EBook #3796] +Release Date: February, 2003 +First Posted: September 12, 2001 +[Last updated: June 17, 2012] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RILLA OF INGLESIDE *** + + + + +Produced by Sheila Perkins. HTML version by Al Haines + + + + + + + + +Rilla of Ingleside + + +by + +Lucy Maud Montgomery + + + + +CONTENTS + + I GLEN "NOTES" AND OTHER MATTERS + II DEW OF MORNING + III MOONLIT MIRTH + IV THE PIPER PIPES + V "THE SOUND OF A GOING" + VI SUSAN, RILLA, AND DOG MONDAY MAKE A RESOLUTION + VII A WAR-BABY AND A SOUP TUREEN + VIII RILLA DECIDES + IX DOC HAS A MISADVENTURE + X THE TROUBLES OF RILLA + XI DARK AND BRIGHT + XII IN THE DAYS OF LANGEMARCK + XIII A SLICE OF HUMBLE PIE + XIV THE VALLEY OF DECISION + XV UNTIL THE DAY BREAK + XVI REALISM AND ROMANCE + XVII THE WEEKS WEAR BY + XVIII A WAR-WEDDING + XIX "THEY SHALL NOT PASS" + XX NORMAN DOUGLAS SPEAKS OUT IN MEETING + XXI "LOVE AFFAIRS ARE HORRIBLE" + XXII LITTLE DOG MONDAY KNOWS + XXIII "AND SO, GOODNIGHT" + XXIV MARY IS JUST IN TIME + XXV SHIRLEY GOES + XXVI SUSAN HAS A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE + XXVII WAITING + XXVIII BLACK SUNDAY + XXIX "WOUNDED AND MISSING" + XXX THE TURNING OF THE TIDE + XXXI MRS. MATILDA PITTMAN + XXXII WORD FROM JEM + XXXIII VICTORY! + XXXIV MR. HYDE GOES TO HIS OWN PLACE AND SUSAN TAKES A HONEYMOON + XXXV "RILLA-MY-RILLA!" + + + +CHAPTER I + +GLEN "NOTES" AND OTHER MATTERS + +It was a warm, golden-cloudy, lovable afternoon. In the big living-room +at Ingleside Susan Baker sat down with a certain grim satisfaction +hovering about her like an aura; it was four o'clock and Susan, who had +been working incessantly since six that morning, felt that she had +fairly earned an hour of repose and gossip. Susan just then was +perfectly happy; everything had gone almost uncannily well in the +kitchen that day. Dr. Jekyll had not been Mr. Hyde and so had not +grated on her nerves; from where she sat she could see the pride of her +heart--the bed of peonies of her own planting and culture, blooming as +no other peony plot in Glen St. Mary ever did or could bloom, with +peonies crimson, peonies silvery pink, peonies white as drifts of +winter snow. + +Susan had on a new black silk blouse, quite as elaborate as anything +Mrs. Marshall Elliott ever wore, and a white starched apron, trimmed +with complicated crocheted lace fully five inches wide, not to mention +insertion to match. Therefore Susan had all the comfortable +consciousness of a well-dressed woman as she opened her copy of the +Daily Enterprise and prepared to read the Glen "Notes" which, as Miss +Cornelia had just informed her, filled half a column of it and +mentioned almost everybody at Ingleside. There was a big, black +headline on the front page of the Enterprise, stating that some +Archduke Ferdinand or other had been assassinated at a place bearing +the weird name of Sarajevo, but Susan tarried not over uninteresting, +immaterial stuff like that; she was in quest of something really vital. +Oh, here it was--"Jottings from Glen St. Mary." Susan settled down +keenly, reading each one over aloud to extract all possible +gratification from it. + +Mrs. Blythe and her visitor, Miss Cornelia--alias Mrs. Marshall +Elliott--were chatting together near the open door that led to the +veranda, through which a cool, delicious breeze was blowing, bringing +whiffs of phantom perfume from the garden, and charming gay echoes from +the vine-hung corner where Rilla and Miss Oliver and Walter were +laughing and talking. Wherever Rilla Blythe was, there was laughter. + +There was another occupant of the living-room, curled up on a couch, +who must not be overlooked, since he was a creature of marked +individuality, and, moreover, had the distinction of being the only +living thing whom Susan really hated. + +All cats are mysterious but Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde--"Doc" for +short--was trebly so. He was a cat of double personality--or else, as +Susan vowed, he was possessed by the devil. To begin with, there had +been something uncanny about the very dawn of his existence. Four years +previously Rilla Blythe had had a treasured darling of a kitten, white +as snow, with a saucy black tip to its tail, which she called Jack +Frost. Susan disliked Jack Frost, though she could not or would not +give any valid reason therefor. + +"Take my word for it, Mrs. Dr. dear," she was wont to say ominously, +"that cat will come to no good." + +"But why do you think so?" Mrs. Blythe would ask. + +"I do not think--I know," was all the answer Susan would vouchsafe. + +With the rest of the Ingleside folk Jack Frost was a favourite; he was +so very clean and well groomed, and never allowed a spot or stain to be +seen on his beautiful white suit; he had endearing ways of purring and +snuggling; he was scrupulously honest. + +And then a domestic tragedy took place at Ingleside. Jack Frost had +kittens! + +It would be vain to try to picture Susan's triumph. Had she not always +insisted that that cat would turn out to be a delusion and a snare? Now +they could see for themselves! + +Rilla kept one of the kittens, a very pretty one, with peculiarly sleek +glossy fur of a dark yellow crossed by orange stripes, and large, +satiny, golden ears. She called it Goldie and the name seemed +appropriate enough to the little frolicsome creature which, during its +kittenhood, gave no indication of the sinister nature it really +possessed. Susan, of course, warned the family that no good could be +expected from any offspring of that diabolical Jack Frost; but Susan's +Cassandra-like croakings were unheeded. + +The Blythes had been so accustomed to regard Jack Frost as a member of +the male sex that they could not get out of the habit. So they +continually used the masculine pronoun, although the result was +ludicrous. Visitors used to be quite electrified when Rilla referred +casually to "Jack and his kitten," or told Goldie sternly, "Go to your +mother and get him to wash your fur." + +"It is not decent, Mrs. Dr. dear," poor Susan would say bitterly. She +herself compromised by always referring to Jack as "it" or "the white +beast," and one heart at least did not ache when "it" was accidentally +poisoned the following winter. + +In a year's time "Goldie" became so manifestly an inadequate name for +the orange kitten that Walter, who was just then reading Stevenson's +story, changed it to Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr. Hyde. In his Dr. Jekyll mood +the cat was a drowsy, affectionate, domestic, cushion-loving puss, who +liked petting and gloried in being nursed and patted. Especially did he +love to lie on his back and have his sleek, cream-coloured throat +stroked gently while he purred in somnolent satisfaction. He was a +notable purrer; never had there been an Ingleside cat who purred so +constantly and so ecstatically. + +"The only thing I envy a cat is its purr," remarked Dr. Blythe once, +listening to Doc's resonant melody. "It is the most contented sound in +the world." + +Doc was very handsome; his every movement was grace; his poses +magnificent. When he folded his long, dusky-ringed tail about his feet +and sat him down on the veranda to gaze steadily into space for long +intervals the Blythes felt that an Egyptian sphinx could not have made +a more fitting Deity of the Portal. + +When the Mr. Hyde mood came upon him--which it invariably did before +rain, or wind--he was a wild thing with changed eyes. The +transformation always came suddenly. He would spring fiercely from a +reverie with a savage snarl and bite at any restraining or caressing +hand. His fur seemed to grow darker and his eyes gleamed with a +diabolical light. There was really an unearthly beauty about him. If +the change happened in the twilight all the Ingleside folk felt a +certain terror of him. At such times he was a fearsome beast and only +Rilla defended him, asserting that he was "such a nice prowly cat." +Certainly he prowled. + +Dr. Jekyll loved new milk; Mr. Hyde would not touch milk and growled +over his meat. Dr. Jekyll came down the stairs so silently that no one +could hear him. Mr. Hyde made his tread as heavy as a man's. Several +evenings, when Susan was alone in the house, he "scared her stiff," as +she declared, by doing this. He would sit in the middle of the kitchen +floor, with his terrible eyes fixed unwinkingly upon hers for an hour +at a time. This played havoc with her nerves, but poor Susan really +held him in too much awe to try to drive him out. Once she had dared to +throw a stick at him and he had promptly made a savage leap towards +her. Susan rushed out of doors and never attempted to meddle with Mr. +Hyde again--though she visited his misdeeds upon the innocent Dr. +Jekyll, chasing him ignominiously out of her domain whenever he dared +to poke his nose in and denying him certain savoury tidbits for which +he yearned. + +"'The many friends of Miss Faith Meredith, Gerald Meredith and James +Blythe,'" read Susan, rolling the names like sweet morsels under her +tongue, "'were very much pleased to welcome them home a few weeks ago +from Redmond College. James Blythe, who was graduated in Arts in 1913, +had just completed his first year in medicine.'" + +"Faith Meredith has really got to be the most handsomest creature I +ever saw," commented Miss Cornelia above her filet crochet. "It's +amazing how those children came on after Rosemary West went to the +manse. People have almost forgotten what imps of mischief they were +once. Anne, dearie, will you ever forget the way they used to carry on? +It's really surprising how well Rosemary got on with them. She's more +like a chum than a step-mother. They all love her and Una adores her. +As for that little Bruce, Una just makes a perfect slave of herself to +him. Of course, he is a darling. But did you ever see any child look as +much like an aunt as he looks like his Aunt Ellen? He's just as dark +and just as emphatic. I can't see a feature of Rosemary in him. Norman +Douglas always vows at the top of his voice that the stork meant Bruce +for him and Ellen and took him to the manse by mistake." + +"Bruce adores Jem," said Mrs Blythe. "When he comes over here he +follows Jem about silently like a faithful little dog, looking up at +him from under his black brows. He would do anything for Jem, I verily +believe." + +"Are Jem and Faith going to make a match of it?" + +Mrs. Blythe smiled. It was well known that Miss Cornelia, who had been +such a virulent man-hater at one time, had actually taken to +match-making in her declining years. + +"They are only good friends yet, Miss Cornelia." + +"Very good friends, believe me," said Miss Cornelia emphatically. "I +hear all about the doings of the young fry." + +"I have no doubt that Mary Vance sees that you do, Mrs. Marshall +Elliott," said Susan significantly, "but I think it is a shame to talk +about children making matches." + +"Children! Jem is twenty-one and Faith is nineteen," retorted Miss +Cornelia. "You must not forget, Susan, that we old folks are not the +only grown-up people in the world." + +Outraged Susan, who detested any reference to her age--not from vanity +but from a haunting dread that people might come to think her too old +to work--returned to her "Notes." + +"'Carl Meredith and Shirley Blythe came home last Friday evening from +Queen's Academy. We understand that Carl will be in charge of the +school at Harbour Head next year and we are sure he will be a popular +and successful teacher.'" + +"He will teach the children all there is to know about bugs, anyhow," +said Miss Cornelia. "He is through with Queen's now and Mr. Meredith +and Rosemary wanted him to go right on to Redmond in the fall, but Carl +has a very independent streak in him and means to earn part of his own +way through college. He'll be all the better for it." + +"'Walter Blythe, who has been teaching for the past two years at +Lowbridge, has resigned,'" read Susan. "'He intends going to Redmond +this fall.'" + +"Is Walter quite strong enough for Redmond yet?" queried Miss Cornelia +anxiously. + +"We hope that he will be by the fall," said Mrs. Blythe. "An idle +summer in the open air and sunshine will do a great deal for him." + +"Typhoid is a hard thing to get over," said Miss Cornelia emphatically, +"especially when one has had such a close shave as Walter had. I think +he'd do well to stay out of college another year. But then he's so +ambitious. Are Di and Nan going too?" + +"Yes. They both wanted to teach another year but Gilbert thinks they +had better go to Redmond this fall." + +"I'm glad of that. They'll keep an eye on Walter and see that he +doesn't study too hard. I suppose," continued Miss Cornelia, with a +side glance at Susan, "that after the snub I got a few minutes ago it +will not be safe for me to suggest that Jerry Meredith is making +sheep's eyes at Nan." + +Susan ignored this and Mrs. Blythe laughed again. + +"Dear Miss Cornelia, I have my hands full, haven't I?--with all these +boys and girls sweethearting around me? If I took it seriously it would +quite crush me. But I don't--it is too hard yet to realize that they're +grown up. When I look at those two tall sons of mine I wonder if they +can possibly be the fat, sweet, dimpled babies I kissed and cuddled and +sang to slumber the other day--only the other day, Miss Cornelia. +Wasn't Jem the dearest baby in the old House of Dreams? and now he's a +B.A. and accused of courting." + +"We're all growing older," sighed Miss Cornelia. + +"The only part of me that feels old," said Mrs. Blythe, "is the ankle I +broke when Josie Pye dared me to walk the Barry ridge-pole in the Green +Gables days. I have an ache in it when the wind is east. I won't admit +that it is rheumatism, but it does ache. As for the children, they and +the Merediths are planning a gay summer before they have to go back to +studies in the fall. They are such a fun-loving little crowd. They keep +this house in a perpetual whirl of merriment." + +"Is Rilla going to Queen's when Shirley goes back?" + +"It isn't decided yet. I rather fancy not. Her father thinks she is not +quite strong enough--she has rather outgrown her strength--she's really +absurdly tall for a girl not yet fifteen. I am not anxious to have her +go--why, it would be terrible not to have a single one of my babies +home with me next winter. Susan and I would fall to fighting with each +other to break the monotony." + +Susan smiled at this pleasantry. The idea of her fighting with "Mrs. +Dr. dear!" + +"Does Rilla herself want to go?" asked Miss Cornelia. + +"No. The truth is, Rilla is the only one of my flock who isn't +ambitious. I really wish she had a little more ambition. She has no +serious ideals at all--her sole aspiration seems to be to have a good +time." + +"And why should she not have it, Mrs. Dr. dear?" cried Susan, who could +not bear to hear a single word against anyone of the Ingleside folk, +even from one of themselves. "A young girl should have a good time, and +that I will maintain. There will be time enough for her to think of +Latin and Greek." + +"I should like to see a little sense of responsibility in her, Susan. +And you know yourself that she is abominably vain." + +"She has something to be vain about," retorted Susan. "She is the +prettiest girl in Glen St. Mary. Do you think that all those +over-harbour MacAllisters and Crawfords and Elliotts could scare up a +skin like Rilla's in four generations? They could not. No, Mrs. Dr. +dear, I know my place but I cannot allow you to run down Rilla. Listen +to this, Mrs. Marshall Elliott." + +Susan had found a chance to get square with Miss Cornelia for her digs +at the children's love affairs. She read the item with gusto. + +"'Miller Douglas has decided not to go West. He says old P.E.I. is good +enough for him and he will continue to farm for his aunt, Mrs. Alec +Davis.'" + +Susan looked keenly at Miss Cornelia. + +"I have heard, Mrs. Marshall Elliott, that Miller is courting Mary +Vance." + +This shot pierced Miss Cornelia's armour. Her sonsy face flushed. + +"I won't have Miller Douglas hanging round Mary," she said crisply. "He +comes of a low family. His father was a sort of outcast from the +Douglases--they never really counted him in--and his mother was one of +those terrible Dillons from the Harbour Head." + +"I think I have heard, Mrs. Marshall Elliott, that Mary Vance's own +parents were not what you could call aristocratic." + +"Mary Vance has had a good bringing up and she is a smart, clever, +capable girl," retorted Miss Cornelia. "She is not going to throw +herself away on Miller Douglas, believe me! She knows my opinion on the +matter and Mary has never disobeyed me yet." + +"Well, I do not think you need worry, Mrs. Marshall Elliott, for Mrs. +Alec Davis is as much against it as you could be, and says no nephew of +hers is ever going to marry a nameless nobody like Mary Vance." + +Susan returned to her mutton, feeling that she had got the best of it +in this passage of arms, and read another "note." + +"'We are pleased to hear that Miss Oliver has been engaged as teacher +for another year. Miss Oliver will spend her well-earned vacation at +her home in Lowbridge.'" + +"I'm so glad Gertrude is going to stay," said Mrs. Blythe. "We would +miss her horribly. And she has an excellent influence over Rilla who +worships her. They are chums, in spite of the difference in their ages." + +"I thought I heard she was going to be married?" + +"I believe it was talked of but I understand it is postponed for a +year." + +"Who is the young man?" + +"Robert Grant. He is a young lawyer in Charlottetown. I hope Gertrude +will be happy. She has had a sad life, with much bitterness in it, and +she feels things with a terrible keenness. Her first youth is gone and +she is practically alone in the world. This new love that has come into +her life seems such a wonderful thing to her that I think she hardly +dares believe in its permanence. When her marriage had to be put off +she was quite in despair--though it certainly wasn't Mr. Grant's fault. +There were complications in the settlement of his father's estate--his +father died last winter--and he could not marry till the tangles were +unravelled. But I think Gertrude felt it was a bad omen and that her +happiness would somehow elude her yet." + +"It does not do, Mrs. Dr. dear, to set your affections too much on a +man," remarked Susan solemnly. + +"Mr. Grant is quite as much in love with Gertrude as she is with him, +Susan. It is not he whom she distrusts--it is fate. She has a little +mystic streak in her--I suppose some people would call her +superstitious. She has an odd belief in dreams and we have not been +able to laugh it out of her. I must own, too, that some of her +dreams--but there, it would not do to let Gilbert hear me hinting such +heresy. What have you found of much interest, Susan?" + +Susan had given an exclamation. + +"Listen to this, Mrs. Dr. dear. 'Mrs. Sophia Crawford has given up her +house at Lowbridge and will make her home in future with her niece, +Mrs. Albert Crawford.' Why that is my own cousin Sophia, Mrs. Dr. dear. +We quarrelled when we were children over who should get a Sunday-school +card with the words 'God is Love,' wreathed in rosebuds, on it, and +have never spoken to each other since. And now she is coming to live +right across the road from us." + +"You will have to make up the old quarrel, Susan. It will never do to +be at outs with your neighbours." + +"Cousin Sophia began the quarrel, so she can begin the making up also, +Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan loftily. "If she does I hope I am a good +enough Christian to meet her half-way. She is not a cheerful person and +has been a wet blanket all her life. The last time I saw her, her face +had a thousand wrinkles--maybe more, maybe less--from worrying and +foreboding. She howled dreadful at her first husband's funeral but she +married again in less than a year. The next note, I see, describes the +special service in our church last Sunday night and says the +decorations were very beautiful." + +"Speaking of that reminds me that Mr. Pryor strongly disapproves of +flowers in church," said Miss Cornelia. "I always said there would be +trouble when that man moved here from Lowbridge. He should never have +been put in as elder--it was a mistake and we shall live to rue it, +believe me! I have heard that he has said that if the girls continue to +'mess up the pulpit with weeds' that he will not go to church." + +"The church got on very well before old Whiskers-on-the-moon came to +the Glen and it is my opinion it will get on without him after he is +gone," said Susan. + +"Who in the world ever gave him that ridiculous nickname?" asked Mrs. +Blythe. + +"Why, the Lowbridge boys have called him that ever since I can +remember, Mrs. Dr. dear--I suppose because his face is so round and +red, with that fringe of sandy whisker about it. It does not do for +anyone to call him that in his hearing, though, and that you may tie +to. But worse than his whiskers, Mrs. Dr. dear, he is a very +unreasonable man and has a great many queer ideas. He is an elder now +and they say he is very religious; but I can well remember the time, +Mrs. Dr. dear, twenty years ago, when he was caught pasturing his cow +in the Lowbridge graveyard. Yes, indeed, I have not forgotten that, and +I always think of it when he is praying in meeting. Well, that is all +the notes and there is not much else in the paper of any importance. I +never take much interest in foreign parts. Who is this Archduke man who +has been murdered?" + +"What does it matter to us?" asked Miss Cornelia, unaware of the +hideous answer to her question which destiny was even then preparing. +"Somebody is always murdering or being murdered in those Balkan States. +It's their normal condition and I don't really think that our papers +ought to print such shocking things. The Enterprise is getting far too +sensational with its big headlines. Well, I must be getting home. No, +Anne dearie, it's no use asking me to stay to supper. Marshall has got +to thinking that if I'm not home for a meal it's not worth eating--just +like a man. So off I go. Merciful goodness, Anne dearie, what is the +matter with that cat? Is he having a fit?"--this, as Doc suddenly +bounded to the rug at Miss Cornelia's feet, laid back his ears, swore +at her, and then disappeared with one fierce leap through the window. + +"Oh, no. He's merely turning into Mr. Hyde--which means that we shall +have rain or high wind before morning. Doc is as good as a barometer." + +"Well, I am thankful he has gone on the rampage outside this time and +not into my kitchen," said Susan. "And I am going out to see about +supper. With such a crowd as we have at Ingleside now it behooves us to +think about our meals betimes." + + + +CHAPTER II + +DEW OF MORNING + +Outside, the Ingleside lawn was full of golden pools of sunshine and +plots of alluring shadows. Rilla Blythe was swinging in the hammock +under the big Scotch pine, Gertrude Oliver sat at its roots beside her, +and Walter was stretched at full length on the grass, lost in a romance +of chivalry wherein old heroes and beauties of dead and gone centuries +lived vividly again for him. + +Rilla was the "baby" of the Blythe family and was in a chronic state of +secret indignation because nobody believed she was grown up. She was so +nearly fifteen that she called herself that, and she was quite as tall +as Di and Nan; also, she was nearly as pretty as Susan believed her to +be. She had great, dreamy, hazel eyes, a milky skin dappled with little +golden freckles, and delicately arched eyebrows, giving her a demure, +questioning look which made people, especially lads in their teens, +want to answer it. Her hair was ripely, ruddily brown and a little dent +in her upper lip looked as if some good fairy had pressed it in with +her finger at Rilla's christening. Rilla, whose best friends could not +deny her share of vanity, thought her face would do very well, but +worried over her figure, and wished her mother could be prevailed upon +to let her wear longer dresses. She, who had been so plump and +roly-poly in the old Rainbow Valley days, was incredibly slim now, in +the arms-and-legs period. Jem and Shirley harrowed her soul by calling +her "Spider." Yet she somehow escaped awkwardness. There was something +in her movements that made you think she never walked but always +danced. She had been much petted and was a wee bit spoiled, but still +the general opinion was that Rilla Blythe was a very sweet girl, even +if she were not so clever as Nan and Di. + +Miss Oliver, who was going home that night for vacation, had boarded +for a year at Ingleside. The Blythes had taken her to please Rilla who +was fathoms deep in love with her teacher and was even willing to share +her room, since no other was available. Gertrude Oliver was +twenty-eight and life had been a struggle for her. She was a +striking-looking girl, with rather sad, almond-shaped brown eyes, a +clever, rather mocking mouth, and enormous masses of black hair twisted +about her head. She was not pretty but there was a certain charm of +interest and mystery in her face, and Rilla found her fascinating. Even +her occasional moods of gloom and cynicism had allurement for Rilla. +These moods came only when Miss Oliver was tired. At all other times +she was a stimulating companion, and the gay set at Ingleside never +remembered that she was so much older than themselves. Walter and Rilla +were her favourites and she was the confidante of the secret wishes and +aspirations of both. She knew that Rilla longed to be "out"--to go to +parties as Nan and Di did, and to have dainty evening dresses and--yes, +there is no mincing matters--beaux! In the plural, at that! As for +Walter, Miss Oliver knew that he had written a sequence of sonnets "to +Rosamond"--i.e., Faith Meredith--and that he aimed at a Professorship +of English literature in some big college. She knew his passionate love +of beauty and his equally passionate hatred of ugliness; she knew his +strength and his weakness. + +Walter was, as ever, the handsomest of the Ingleside boys. Miss Oliver +found pleasure in looking at him for his good looks--he was so exactly +like what she would have liked her own son to be. Glossy black hair, +brilliant dark grey eyes, faultless features. And a poet to his +fingertips! That sonnet sequence was really a remarkable thing for a +lad of twenty to write. Miss Oliver was no partial critic and she knew +that Walter Blythe had a wonderful gift. + +Rilla loved Walter with all her heart. He never teased her as Jem and +Shirley did. He never called her "Spider." His pet name for her was +"Rilla-my-Rilla"--a little pun on her real name, Marilla. She had been +named after Aunt Marilla of Green Gables, but Aunt Marilla had died +before Rilla was old enough to know her very well, and Rilla detested +the name as being horribly old-fashioned and prim. Why couldn't they +have called her by her first name, Bertha, which was beautiful and +dignified, instead of that silly "Rilla"? She did not mind Walter's +version, but nobody else was allowed to call her that, except Miss +Oliver now and then. "Rilla-my-Rilla" in Walter's musical voice sounded +very beautiful to her--like the lilt and ripple of some silvery brook. +She would have died for Walter if it would have done him any good, so +she told Miss Oliver. Rilla was as fond of italics as most girls of +fifteen are--and the bitterest drop in her cup was her suspicion that +he told Di more of his secrets than he told her. + +"He thinks I'm not grown up enough to understand," she had once +lamented rebelliously to Miss Oliver, "but I am! And I would never tell +them to a single soul--not even to you, Miss Oliver. I tell you all my +own--I just couldn't be happy if I had any secret from you, +dearest--but I would never betray his. I tell him everything--I even +show him my diary. And it hurts me dreadfully when he doesn't tell me +things. He shows me all his poems, though--they are marvellous, Miss +Oliver. Oh, I just live in the hope that some day I shall be to Walter +what Wordsworth's sister Dorothy was to him. Wordsworth never wrote +anything like Walter's poems--nor Tennyson, either." + +"I wouldn't say just that. Both of them wrote a great deal of trash," +said Miss Oliver dryly. Then, repenting, as she saw a hurt look in +Rilla's eye, she added hastily, + +"But I believe Walter will be a great poet, too--some day--and you will +have more of his confidence as you grow older." + +"When Walter was in the hospital with typhoid last year I was almost +crazy," sighed Rilla, a little importantly. "They never told me how ill +he really was until it was all over--father wouldn't let them. I'm glad +I didn't know--I couldn't have borne it. I cried myself to sleep every +night as it was. But sometimes," concluded Rilla bitterly--she liked to +speak bitterly now and then in imitation of Miss Oliver--"sometimes I +think Walter cares more for Dog Monday than he does for me." + +Dog Monday was the Ingleside dog, so called because he had come into +the family on a Monday when Walter had been reading Robinson Crusoe. He +really belonged to Jem but was much attached to Walter also. He was +lying beside Walter now with nose snuggled against his arm, thumping +his tail rapturously whenever Walter gave him an absent pat. Monday was +not a collie or a setter or a hound or a Newfoundland. He was just, as +Jem said, "plain dog"--very plain dog, uncharitable people added. +Certainly, Monday's looks were not his strong point. Black spots were +scattered at random over his yellow carcass, one of them, apparently, +blotting out an eye. His ears were in tatters, for Monday was never +successful in affairs of honour. But he possessed one talisman. He knew +that not all dogs could be handsome or eloquent or victorious, but that +every dog could love. Inside his homely hide beat the most +affectionate, loyal, faithful heart of any dog since dogs were; and +something looked out of his brown eyes that was nearer akin to a soul +than any theologian would allow. Everybody at Ingleside was fond of +him, even Susan, although his one unfortunate propensity of sneaking +into the spare room and going to sleep on the bed tried her affection +sorely. + +On this particular afternoon Rilla had no quarrel on hand with existing +conditions. + +"Hasn't June been a delightful month?" she asked, looking dreamily afar +at the little quiet silvery clouds hanging so peacefully over Rainbow +Valley. "We've had such lovely times--and such lovely weather. It has +just been perfect every way." + +"I don't half like that," said Miss Oliver, with a sigh. "It's +ominous--somehow. A perfect thing is a gift of the gods--a sort of +compensation for what is coming afterwards. I've seen that so often +that I don't care to hear people say they've had a perfect time. June +has been delightful, though." + +"Of course, it hasn't been very exciting," said Rilla. "The only +exciting thing that has happened in the Glen for a year was old Miss +Mead fainting in Church. Sometimes I wish something dramatic would +happen once in a while." + +"Don't wish it. Dramatic things always have a bitterness for some one. +What a nice summer all you gay creatures will have! And me moping at +Lowbridge!" + +"You'll be over often, won't you? I think there's going to be lots of +fun this summer, though I'll just be on the fringe of things as usual, +I suppose. Isn't it horrid when people think you're a little girl when +you're not?" + +"There's plenty of time for you to be grown up, Rilla. Don't wish your +youth away. It goes too quickly. You'll begin to taste life soon +enough." + +"Taste life! I want to eat it," cried Rilla, laughing. "I want +everything--everything a girl can have. I'll be fifteen in another +month, and then nobody can say I'm a child any longer. I heard someone +say once that the years from fifteen to nineteen are the best years in +a girl's life. I'm going to make them perfectly splendid--just fill +them with fun." + +"There's no use thinking about what you're going to do--you are +tolerably sure not to do it." + +"Oh, but you do get a lot of fun out of the thinking," cried Rilla. + +"You think of nothing but fun, you monkey," said Miss Oliver +indulgently, reflecting that Rilla's chin was really the last word in +chins. "Well, what else is fifteen for? But have you any notion of +going to college this fall?" + +"No--nor any other fall. I don't want to. I never cared for all those +ologies and isms Nan and Di are so crazy about. And there's five of us +going to college already. Surely that's enough. There's bound to be one +dunce in every family. I'm quite willing to be a dunce if I can be a +pretty, popular, delightful one. I can't be clever. I have no talent at +all, and you can't imagine how comfortable it is. Nobody expects me to +do anything so I'm never pestered to do it. And I can't be a +housewifely, cookly creature, either. I hate sewing and dusting, and +when Susan couldn't teach me to make biscuits nobody could. Father says +I toil not neither do I spin. Therefore, I must be a lily of the +field," concluded Rilla, with another laugh. + +"You are too young to give up your studies altogether, Rilla." + +"Oh, mother will put me through a course of reading next winter. It +will polish up her B.A. degree. Luckily I like reading. Don't look at +me so sorrowfully and so disapprovingly, dearest. I can't be sober and +serious--everything looks so rosy and rainbowy to me. Next month I'll +be fifteen--and next year sixteen--and the year after that seventeen. +Could anything be more enchanting?" + +"Rap wood," said Gertrude Oliver, half laughingly, half seriously. "Rap +wood, Rilla-my-Rilla." + + + +CHAPTER III + +MOONLIT MIRTH + +Rilla, who still buttoned up her eyes when she went to sleep so that +she always looked as if she were laughing in her slumber, yawned, +stretched, and smiled at Gertrude Oliver. The latter had come over from +Lowbridge the previous evening and had been prevailed upon to remain +for the dance at the Four Winds lighthouse the next night. + +"The new day is knocking at the window. What will it bring us, I +wonder." + +Miss Oliver shivered a little. She never greeted the days with Rilla's +enthusiasm. She had lived long enough to know that a day may bring a +terrible thing. + +"I think the nicest thing about days is their unexpectedness," went on +Rilla. "It's jolly to wake up like this on a golden-fine morning and +wonder what surprise packet the day will hand you. I always day-dream +for ten minutes before I get up, imagining the heaps of splendid things +that may happen before night." + +"I hope something very unexpected will happen today," said Gertrude. "I +hope the mail will bring us news that war has been averted between +Germany and France." + +"Oh--yes," said Rilla vaguely. "It will be dreadful if it isn't, I +suppose. But it won't really matter much to us, will it? I think a war +would be so exciting. The Boer war was, they say, but I don't remember +anything about it, of course. Miss Oliver, shall I wear my white dress +tonight or my new green one? The green one is by far the prettier, of +course, but I'm almost afraid to wear it to a shore dance for fear +something will happen to it. And will you do my hair the new way? None +of the other girls in the Glen wear it yet and it will make such a +sensation." + +"How did you induce your mother to let you go to the dance?" + +"Oh, Walter coaxed her over. He knew I would be heart-broken if I +didn't go. It's my first really-truly grown-up party, Miss Oliver, and +I've just lain awake at nights for a week thinking it over. When I saw +the sun shining this morning I wanted to whoop for joy. It would be +simply terrible if it rained tonight. I think I'll wear the green dress +and risk it. I want to look my nicest at my first party. Besides, it's +an inch longer than my white one. And I'll wear my silver slippers too. +Mrs. Ford sent them to me last Christmas and I've never had a chance to +wear them yet. They're the dearest things. Oh, Miss Oliver, I do hope +some of the boys will ask me to dance. I shall die of +mortification--truly I will, if nobody does and I have to sit stuck up +against the wall all the evening. Of course Carl and Jerry can't dance +because they're the minister's sons, or else I could depend on them to +save me from utter disgrace." + +"You'll have plenty of partners--all the over-harbour boys are +coming--there'll be far more boys than girls." + +"I'm glad I'm not a minister's daughter," laughed Rilla. "Poor Faith is +so furious because she won't dare to dance tonight. Una doesn't care, +of course. She has never hankered after dancing. Somebody told Faith +there would be a taffy-pull in the kitchen for those who didn't dance +and you should have seen the face she made. She and Jem will sit out on +the rocks most of the evening, I suppose. Did you know that we are all +to walk down as far as that little creek below the old House of Dreams +and then sail to the lighthouse? Won't it just be absolutely divine?" + +"When I was fifteen I talked in italics and superlatives too," said +Miss Oliver sarcastically. "I think the party promises to be pleasant +for young fry. I expect to be bored. None of those boys will bother +dancing with an old maid like me. Jem and Walter will take me out once +out of charity. So you can't expect me to look forward to it with your +touching young rapture." + +"Didn't you have a good time at your first party, though, Miss Oliver?" + +"No. I had a hateful time. I was shabby and homely and nobody asked me +to dance except one boy, homelier and shabbier than myself. He was so +awkward I hated him--and even he didn't ask me again. I had no real +girlhood, Rilla. It's a sad loss. That's why I want you to have a +splendid, happy girlhood. And I hope your first party will be one +you'll remember all your life with pleasure." + +"I dreamed last night I was at the dance and right in the middle of +things I discovered I was dressed in my kimono and bedroom shoes," +sighed Rilla. "I woke up with a gasp of horror." + +"Speaking of dreams--I had an odd one," said Miss Oliver absently. "It +was one of those vivid dreams I sometimes have--they are not the vague +jumble of ordinary dreams--they are as clear cut and real as life." + +"What was your dream?" + +"I was standing on the veranda steps, here at Ingleside, looking down +over the fields of the Glen. All at once, far in the distance, I saw a +long, silvery, glistening wave breaking over them. It came nearer and +nearer--just a succession of little white waves like those that break +on the sandshore sometimes. The Glen was being swallowed up. I thought, +'Surely the waves will not come near Ingleside'--but they came nearer +and nearer--so rapidly--before I could move or call they were breaking +right at my feet--and everything was gone--there was nothing but a +waste of stormy water where the Glen had been. I tried to draw +back--and I saw that the edge of my dress was wet with blood--and I +woke--shivering. I don't like the dream. There was some sinister +significance in it. That kind of vivid dream always 'comes true' with +me." + +"I hope it doesn't mean there's a storm coming up from the east to +spoil the party," murmured Rilla. + +"Incorrigible fifteen!" said Miss Oliver dryly. "No, Rilla-my-Rilla, I +don't think there is any danger that it foretells anything so awful as +that." + +There had been an undercurrent of tension in the Ingleside existence +for several days. Only Rilla, absorbed in her own budding life, was +unaware of it. Dr. Blythe had taken to looking grave and saying little +over the daily paper. Jem and Walter were keenly interested in the news +it brought. Jem sought Walter out in excitement that evening. + +"Oh, boy, Germany has declared war on France. This means that England +will fight too, probably--and if she does--well, the Piper of your old +fancy will have come at last." + +"It wasn't a fancy," said Walter slowly. "It was a presentiment--a +vision--Jem, I really saw him for a moment that evening long ago. +Suppose England does fight?" + +"Why, we'll all have to turn in and help her," cried Jem gaily. "We +couldn't let the 'old grey mother of the northern sea' fight it out +alone, could we? But you can't go--the typhoid has done you out of +that. Sort of a shame, eh?" + +Walter did not say whether it was a shame or not. He looked silently +over the Glen to the dimpling blue harbour beyond. + +"We're the cubs--we've got to pitch in tooth and claw if it comes to a +family row," Jem went on cheerfully, rumpling up his red curls with a +strong, lean, sensitive brown hand--the hand of the born surgeon, his +father often thought. "What an adventure it would be! But I suppose +Grey or some of those wary old chaps will patch matters up at the +eleventh hour. It'll be a rotten shame if they leave France in the +lurch, though. If they don't, we'll see some fun. Well, I suppose it's +time to get ready for the spree at the light." + +Jem departed whistling "Wi' a hundred pipers and a' and a'," and Walter +stood for a long time where he was. There was a little frown on his +forehead. This had all come up with the blackness and suddenness of a +thundercloud. A few days ago nobody had even thought of such a thing. +It was absurd to think of it now. Some way out would be found. War was +a hellish, horrible, hideous thing--too horrible and hideous to happen +in the twentieth century between civilized nations. The mere thought of +it was hideous, and made Walter unhappy in its threat to the beauty of +life. He would not think of it--he would resolutely put it out of his +mind. How beautiful the old Glen was, in its August ripeness, with its +chain of bowery old homesteads, tilled meadows and quiet gardens. The +western sky was like a great golden pearl. Far down the harbour was +frosted with a dawning moonlight. The air was full of exquisite +sounds--sleepy robin whistles, wonderful, mournful, soft murmurs of +wind in the twilit trees, rustle of aspen poplars talking in silvery +whispers and shaking their dainty, heart-shaped leaves, lilting young +laughter from the windows of rooms where the girls were making ready +for the dance. The world was steeped in maddening loveliness of sound +and colour. He would think only of these things and of the deep, subtle +joy they gave him. "Anyhow, no one will expect me to go," he thought. +"As Jem says, typhoid has seen to that." + +Rilla was leaning out of her room window, dressed for the dance. A +yellow pansy slipped from her hair and fell out over the sill like a +falling star of gold. She caught at it vainly--but there were enough +left. Miss Oliver had woven a little wreath of them for her pet's hair. + +"It's so beautifully calm--isn't that splendid? We'll have a perfect +night. Listen, Miss Oliver--I can hear those old bells in Rainbow +Valley quite clearly. They've been hanging there for over ten years." + +"Their wind chime always makes me think of the aerial, celestial music +Adam and Eve heard in Milton's Eden," responded Miss Oliver. + +"We used to have such fun in Rainbow Valley when we were children," +said Rilla dreamily. + +Nobody ever played in Rainbow Valley now. It was very silent on summer +evenings. Walter liked to go there to read. Jem and Faith trysted there +considerably; Jerry and Nan went there to pursue uninterruptedly the +ceaseless wrangles and arguments on profound subjects that seemed to be +their preferred method of sweethearting. And Rilla had a beloved little +sylvan dell of her own there where she liked to sit and dream. + +"I must run down to the kitchen before I go and show myself off to +Susan. She would never forgive me if I didn't." + +Rilla whirled into the shadowy kitchen at Ingleside, where Susan was +prosaically darning socks, and lighted it up with her beauty. She wore +her green dress with its little pink daisy garlands, her silk stockings +and silver slippers. She had golden pansies in her hair and at her +creamy throat. She was so pretty and young and glowing that even Cousin +Sophia Crawford was compelled to admire her--and Cousin Sophia Crawford +admired few transient earthly things. Cousin Sophia and Susan had made +up, or ignored, their old feud since the former had come to live in the +Glen, and Cousin Sophia often came across in the evenings to make a +neighbourly call. Susan did not always welcome her rapturously for +Cousin Sophia was not what could be called an exhilarating companion. +"Some calls are visits and some are visitations, Mrs. Dr. dear," Susan +said once, and left it to be inferred that Cousin Sophia's were the +latter. + +Cousin Sophia had a long, pale, wrinkled face, a long, thin nose, a +long, thin mouth, and very long, thin, pale hands, generally folded +resignedly on her black calico lap. Everything about her seemed long +and thin and pale. She looked mournfully upon Rilla Blythe and said +sadly, + +"Is your hair all your own?" + +"Of course it is," cried Rilla indignantly. + +"Ah, well!" Cousin Sophia sighed. "It might be better for you if it +wasn't! Such a lot of hair takes from a person's strength. It's a sign +of consumption, I've heard, but I hope it won't turn out like that in +your case. I s'pose you'll all be dancing tonight--even the minister's +boys most likely. I s'pose his girls won't go that far. Ah, well, I +never held with dancing. I knew a girl once who dropped dead while she +was dancing. How any one could ever dance aga' after a judgment like +that I cannot comprehend." + +"Did she ever dance again?" asked Rilla pertly. + +"I told you she dropped dead. Of course she never danced again, poor +creature. She was a Kirke from Lowbridge. You ain't a-going off like +that with nothing on your bare neck, are you?" + +"It's a hot evening," protested Rilla. "But I'll put on a scarf when we +go on the water." + +"I knew of a boat load of young folks who went sailing on that harbour +forty years ago just such a night as this--just exactly such a night as +this," said Cousin Sophia lugubriously, "and they were upset and +drowned--every last one of them. I hope nothing like that'll happen to +you tonight. Do you ever try anything for the freckles? I used to find +plantain juice real good." + +"You certainly should be a judge of freckles, Cousin Sophia," said +Susan, rushing to Rilla's defence. "You were more speckled than any +toad when you was a girl. Rilla's only come in summer but yours stayed +put, season in and season out; and you had not a ground colour like +hers behind them neither. You look real nice, Rilla, and that way of +fixing your hair is becoming. But you are not going to walk to the +harbour in those slippers, are you?" + +"Oh, no. We'll all wear our old shoes to the harbour and carry our +slippers. Do you like my dress, Susan?" + +"It minds me of a dress I wore when I was a girl," sighed Cousin Sophia +before Susan could reply. "It was green with pink posies on it, too, +and it was flounced from the waist to the hem. We didn't wear the +skimpy things girls wear nowadays. Ah me, times has changed and not for +the better I'm afraid. I tore a big hole in it that night and someone +spilled a cup of tea all over it. Ruined it completely. But I hope +nothing will happen to your dress. It orter to be a bit longer I'm +thinking--your legs are so terrible long and thin." + +"Mrs. Dr. Blythe does not approve of little girls dressing like +grown-up ones," said Susan stiffly, intending merely a snub to Cousin +Sophia. But Rilla felt insulted. A little girl indeed! She whisked out +of the kitchen in high dudgeon. Another time she wouldn't go down to +show herself off to Susan--Susan, who thought nobody was grown up until +she was sixty! And that horrid Cousin Sophia with her digs about +freckles and legs! What business had an old--an old beanpole like that +to talk of anybody else being long and thin? Rilla felt all her +pleasure in herself and her evening clouded and spoiled. The very teeth +of her soul were set on edge and she could have sat down and cried. + +But later on her spirits rose again when she found herself one of the +gay crowd bound for the Four Winds light. + +The Blythes left Ingleside to the melancholy music of howls from Dog +Monday, who was locked up in the barn lest he make an uninvited guest +at the light. They picked up the Merediths in the village, and others +joined them as they walked down the old harbour road. Mary Vance, +resplendent in blue crepe, with lace overdress, came out of Miss +Cornelia's gate and attached herself to Rilla and Miss Oliver who were +walking together and who did not welcome her over-warmly. Rilla was not +very fond of Mary Vance. She had never forgotten the humiliating day +when Mary had chased her through the village with a dried codfish. Mary +Vance, to tell the truth, was not exactly popular with any of her set. +Still, they enjoyed her society--she had such a biting tongue that it +was stimulating. "Mary Vance is a habit of ours--we can't do without +her even when we are furious with her," Di Blythe had once said. + +Most of the little crowd were paired off after a fashion. Jem walked +with Faith Meredith, of course, and Jerry Meredith with Nan Blythe. Di +and Walter were together, deep in confidential conversation which Rilla +envied. + +Carl Meredith was walking with Miranda Pryor, more to torment Joe +Milgrave than for any other reason. Joe was known to have a strong +hankering for the said Miranda, which shyness prevented him from +indulging on all occasions. Joe might summon enough courage to amble up +beside Miranda if the night were dark, but here, in this moonlit dusk, +he simply could not do it. So he trailed along after the procession and +thought things not lawful to be uttered of Carl Meredith. Miranda was +the daughter of Whiskers-on-the-moon; she did not share her father's +unpopularity but she was not much run after, being a pale, neutral +little creature, somewhat addicted to nervous giggling. She had silvery +blonde hair and her eyes were big china blue orbs that looked as if she +had been badly frightened when she was little and had never got over +it. She would much rather have walked with Joe than with Carl, with +whom she did not feel in the least at home. Yet it was something of an +honour, too, to have a college boy beside her, and a son of the manse +at that. + +Shirley Blythe was with Una Meredith and both were rather silent +because such was their nature. Shirley was a lad of sixteen, sedate, +sensible, thoughtful, full of a quiet humour. He was Susan's "little +brown boy" yet, with his brown hair, brown eyes, and clear brown skin. +He liked to walk with Una Meredith because she never tried to make him +talk or badgered him with chatter. Una was as sweet and shy as she had +been in the Rainbow Valley days, and her large, dark-blue eyes were as +dreamy and wistful. She had a secret, carefully-hidden fancy for Walter +Blythe that nobody but Rilla ever suspected. Rilla sympathized with it +and wished Walter would return it. She liked Una better than Faith, +whose beauty and aplomb rather overshadowed other girls--and Rilla did +not enjoy being overshadowed. + +But just now she was very happy. It was so delightful to be tripping +with her friends down that dark, gleaming road sprinkled with its +little spruces and firs, whose balsam made all the air resinous around +them. Meadows of sunset afterlight were behind the westerning hills. +Before them was the shining harbour. A bell was ringing in the little +church over-harbour and the lingering dream-notes died around the dim, +amethystine points. The gulf beyond was still silvery blue in the +afterlight. Oh, it was all glorious--the clear air with its salt tang, +the balsam of the firs, the laughter of her friends. Rilla loved +life--its bloom and brilliance; she loved the ripple of music, the hum +of merry conversation; she wanted to walk on forever over this road of +silver and shadow. It was her first party and she was going to have a +splendid time. There was nothing in the world to worry about--not even +freckles and over-long legs--nothing except one little haunting fear +that nobody would ask her to dance. It was beautiful and satisfying +just to be alive--to be fifteen--to be pretty. Rilla drew a long breath +of rapture--and caught it midway rather sharply. Jem was telling some +story to Faith--something that had happened in the Balkan War. + +"The doctor lost both his legs--they were smashed to pulp--and he was +left on the field to die. And he crawled about from man to man, to all +the wounded men round him, as long as he could, and did everything +possible to relieve their sufferings--never thinking of himself--he was +tying a bit of bandage round another man's leg when he went under. They +found them there, the doctor's dead hands still held the bandage tight, +the bleeding was stopped and the other man's life was saved. Some hero, +wasn't he, Faith? I tell you when I read that--" + +Jem and Faith moved on out of hearing. Gertrude Oliver suddenly +shivered. Rilla pressed her arm sympathetically. + +"Wasn't it dreadful, Miss Oliver? I don't know why Jem tells such +gruesome things at a time like this when we're all out for fun." + +"Do you think it dreadful, Rilla? I thought it wonderful--beautiful. +Such a story makes one ashamed of ever doubting human nature. That +man's action was godlike. And how humanity responds to the ideal of +self-sacrifice. As for my shiver, I don't know what caused it. The +evening is certainly warm enough. Perhaps someone is walking over the +dark, starshiny spot that is to be my grave. That is the explanation +the old superstition would give. Well, I won't think of that on this +lovely night. Do you know, Rilla, that when night-time comes I'm always +glad I live in the country. We know the real charm of night here as +town dwellers never do. Every night is beautiful in the country--even +the stormy ones. I love a wild night storm on this old gulf shore. As +for a night like this, it is almost too beautiful--it belongs to youth +and dreamland and I'm half afraid of it." + +"I feel as if I were part of it," said Rilla. + +"Ah yes, you're young enough not to be afraid of perfect things. Well, +here we are at the House of Dreams. It seems lonely this summer. The +Fords didn't come?" + +"Mr. and Mrs. Ford and Persis didn't. Kenneth did--but he stayed with +his mother's people over-harbour. We haven't seen a great deal of him +this summer. He's a little lame, so didn't go about very much." + +"Lame? What happened to him?" + +"He broke his ankle in a football game last fall and was laid up most +of the winter. He has limped a little ever since but it is getting +better all the time and he expects it will be all right before long. He +has been up to Ingleside only twice." + +"Ethel Reese is simply crazy about him," said Mary Vance. "She hasn't +got the sense she was born with where he is concerned. He walked home +with her from the over-harbour church last prayer-meeting night and the +airs she has put on since would really make you weary of life. As if a +Toronto boy like Ken Ford would ever really think of a country girl +like Ethel!" + +Rilla flushed. It did not matter to her if Kenneth Ford walked home +with Ethel Reese a dozen times--it did not! Nothing that he did +mattered to her. He was ages older than she was. He chummed with Nan +and Di and Faith, and looked upon her, Rilla, as a child whom he never +noticed except to tease. And she detested Ethel Reese and Ethel Reese +hated her--always had hated her since Walter had pummelled Dan so +notoriously in Rainbow Valley days; but why need she be thought beneath +Kenneth Ford's notice because she was a country girl, pray? As for Mary +Vance, she was getting to be an out-and-out gossip and thought of +nothing but who walked home with people! + +There was a little pier on the harbour shore below the House of Dreams, +and two boats were moored there. One boat was skippered by Jem Blythe, +the other by Joe Milgrave, who knew all about boats and was nothing +loth to let Miranda Pryor see it. They raced down the harbour and Joe's +boat won. More boats were coming down from the Harbour Head and across +the harbour from the western side. Everywhere there was laughter. The +big white tower on Four Winds Point was overflowing with light, while +its revolving beacon flashed overhead. A family from Charlottetown, +relatives of the light's keeper, were summering at the light, and they +were giving the party to which all the young people of Four Winds and +Glen St. Mary and over-harbour had been invited. As Jem's boat swung in +below the lighthouse Rilla desperately snatched off her shoes and +donned her silver slippers behind Miss Oliver's screening back. A +glance had told her that the rock-cut steps climbing up to the light +were lined with boys, and lighted by Chinese lanterns, and she was +determined she would not walk up those steps in the heavy shoes her +mother had insisted on her wearing for the road. The slippers pinched +abominably, but nobody would have suspected it as Rilla tripped +smilingly up the steps, her soft dark eyes glowing and questioning, her +colour deepening richly on her round, creamy cheeks. The very minute +she reached the top of the steps an over-harbour boy asked her to dance +and the next moment they were in the pavilion that had been built +seaward of the lighthouse for dances. It was a delightful spot, roofed +over with fir-boughs and hung with lanterns. Beyond was the sea in a +radiance that glowed and shimmered, to the left the moonlit crests and +hollows of the sand-dunes, to the right the rocky shore with its inky +shadows and its crystalline coves. Rilla and her partner swung in among +the dancers; she drew a long breath of delight; what witching music Ned +Burr of the Upper Glen was coaxing from his fiddle--it was really like +the magical pipes of the old tale which compelled all who heard them to +dance. How cool and fresh the gulf breeze blew; how white and wonderful +the moonlight was over everything! This was life--enchanting life. +Rilla felt as if her feet and her soul both had wings. + + + +CHAPTER IV + +THE PIPER PIPES + +Rilla's first party was a triumph--or so it seemed at first. She had so +many partners that she had to split her dances. Her silver slippers +seemed verily to dance of themselves and though they continued to pinch +her toes and blister her heels that did not interfere with her +enjoyment in the least. Ethel Reese gave her a bad ten minutes by +beckoning her mysteriously out of the pavilion and whispering, with a +Reese-like smirk, that her dress gaped behind and that there was a +stain on the flounce. Rilla rushed miserably to the room in the +lighthouse which was fitted up for a temporary ladies' dressing-room, +and discovered that the stain was merely a tiny grass smear and that +the gap was equally tiny where a hook had pulled loose. Irene Howard +fastened it up for her and gave her some over-sweet, condescending +compliments. Rilla felt flattered by Irene's condescension. She was an +Upper Glen girl of nineteen who seemed to like the society of the +younger girls--spiteful friends said because she could queen it over +them without rivalry. But Rilla thought Irene quite wonderful and loved +her for her patronage. Irene was pretty and stylish; she sang divinely +and spent every winter in Charlottetown taking music lessons. She had +an aunt in Montreal who sent her wonderful things to wear; she was +reported to have had a sad love affair--nobody knew just what, but its +very mystery allured. Rilla felt that Irene's compliments crowned her +evening. She ran gaily back to the pavilion and lingered for a moment +in the glow of the lanterns at the entrance looking at the dancers. A +momentary break in the whirling throng gave her a glimpse of Kenneth +Ford standing at the other side. + +Rilla's heart skipped a beat--or, if that be a physiological +impossibility, she thought it did. So he was here, after all. She had +concluded he was not coming--not that it mattered in the least. Would +he see her? Would he take any notice of her? Of course, he wouldn't ask +her to dance--that couldn't be hoped for. He thought her just a mere +child. He had called her "Spider" not three weeks ago when he had been +at Ingleside one evening. She had cried about it upstairs afterwards +and hated him. But her heart skipped a beat when she saw that he was +edging his way round the side of the pavilion towards her. Was he +coming to her--was he?--was he?--yes, he was! He was looking for +her--he was here beside her--he was gazing down at her with something +in his dark grey eyes that Rilla had never seen in them. Oh, it was +almost too much to bear! and everything was going on as before--the +dancers were spinning round, the boys who couldn't get partners were +hanging about the pavilion, canoodling couples were sitting out on the +rocks--nobody seemed to realize what a stupendous thing had happened. + +Kenneth was a tall lad, very good looking, with a certain careless +grace of bearing that somehow made all the other boys seem stiff and +awkward by contrast. He was reported to be awesomely clever, with the +glamour of a far-away city and a big university hanging around him. He +had also the reputation of being a bit of a lady-killer. But that +probably accrued to him from his possession of a laughing, velvety +voice which no girl could hear without a heartbeat, and a dangerous way +of listening as if she were saying something that he had longed all his +life to hear. + +"Is this Rilla-my-Rilla?" he asked in a low tone. + +"Yeth," said Rilla, and immediately wished she could throw herself +headlong down the lighthouse rock or otherwise vanish from a jeering +world. + +Rilla had lisped in early childhood; but she had grown out of it. Only +on occasions of stress and strain did the tendency re-assert itself. +She hadn't lisped for a year; and now at this very moment, when she was +so especially desirous of appearing grown up and sophisticated, she +must go and lisp like a baby! It was too mortifying; she felt as if +tears were going to come into her eyes; the next minute she would +be--blubbering--yes, just blubbering--she wished Kenneth would go +away--she wished he had never come. The party was spoiled. Everything +had turned to dust and ashes. + +And he had called her "Rilla-my-Rilla"--not "Spider" or "Kid" or +"Puss," as he had been used to call her when he took any notice +whatever of her. She did not at all resent his using Walter's pet name +for her; it sounded beautifully in his low caressing tones, with just +the faintest suggestion of emphasis on the "my." It would have been so +nice if she had not made a fool of herself. She dared not look up lest +she should see laughter in his eyes. So she looked down; and as her +lashes were very long and dark and her lids very thick and creamy, the +effect was quite charming and provocative, and Kenneth reflected that +Rilla Blythe was going to be the beauty of the Ingleside girls after +all. He wanted to make her look up--to catch again that little, demure, +questioning glance. She was the prettiest thing at the party, there was +no doubt of that. + +What was he saying? Rilla could hardly believe her ears. + +"Can we have a dance?" + +"Yes," said Rilla. She said it with such a fierce determination not to +lisp that she fairly blurted the word out. Then she writhed in spirit +again. It sounded so bold--so eager--as if she were fairly jumping at +him! What would he think of her? Oh, why did dreadful things like this +happen, just when a girl wanted to appear at her best? + +Kenneth drew her in among the dancers. + +"I think this game ankle of mine is good for one hop around, at least," +he said. + +"How is your ankle?" said Rilla. Oh, why couldn't she think of +something else to say? She knew he was sick of inquiries about his +ankle. She had heard him say so at Ingleside--heard him tell Di he was +going to wear a placard on his breast announcing to all and sundry that +the ankle was improving, etc. And now she must go and ask this stale +question again. + +Kenneth was tired of inquiries about his ankle. But then he had not +often been asked about it by lips with such an adorable kissable dent +just above them. Perhaps that was why he answered very patiently that +it was getting on well and didn't trouble him much, if he didn't walk +or stand too long at a time. + +"They tell me it will be as strong as ever in time, but I'll have to +cut football out this fall." + +They danced together and Rilla knew every girl in sight envied her. +After the dance they went down the rock steps and Kenneth found a +little flat and they rowed across the moonlit channel to the +sand-shore; they walked on the sand till Kenneth's ankle made protest +and then they sat down among the dunes. Kenneth talked to her as he had +talked to Nan and Di. Rilla, overcome with a shyness she did not +understand, could not talk much, and thought he would think her +frightfully stupid; but in spite of this it was all very wonderful--the +exquisite moonlit night, the shining sea, the tiny little wavelets +swishing on the sand, the cool and freakish wind of night crooning in +the stiff grasses on the crest of the dunes, the music sounding faintly +and sweetly over the channel. + +"'A merry lilt o' moonlight for mermaiden revelry,'" quoted Kenneth +softly from one of Walter's poems. + +And just he and she alone together in the glamour of sound and sight! +If only her slippers didn't bite so! and if only she could talk +cleverly like Miss Oliver--nay, if she could only talk as she did +herself to other boys! But words would not come, she could only listen +and murmur little commonplace sentences now and again. But perhaps her +dreamy eyes and her dented lip and her slender throat talked eloquently +for her. At any rate Kenneth seemed in no hurry to suggest going back +and when they did go back supper was in progress. He found a seat for +her near the window of the lighthouse kitchen and sat on the sill +beside her while she ate her ices and cake. Rilla looked about her and +thought how lovely her first party had been. She would never forget it. +The room re-echoed to laughter and jest. Beautiful young eyes sparkled +and shone. From the pavilion outside came the lilt of the fiddle and +the rhythmic steps of the dancers. + +There was a little disturbance among a group of boys crowded about the +door; a young fellow pushed through and halted on the threshold, +looking about him rather sombrely. It was Jack Elliott from +over-harbour--a McGill medical student, a quiet chap not much addicted +to social doings. He had been invited to the party but had not been +expected to come since he had to go to Charlottetown that day and could +not be back until late. Yet here he was--and he carried a folded paper +in his hand. + +Gertrude Oliver looked at him from her corner and shivered again. She +had enjoyed the party herself, after all, for she had foregathered with +a Charlottetown acquaintance who, being a stranger and much older than +most of the guests, felt himself rather out of it, and had been glad to +fall in with this clever girl who could talk of world doings and +outside events with the zest and vigour of a man. In the pleasure of +his society she had forgotten some of her misgivings of the day. Now +they suddenly returned to her. What news did Jack Elliott bring? Lines +from an old poem flashed unbidden into her mind--"there was a sound of +revelry by night"--"Hush! Hark! A deep sound strikes like a rising +knell"--why should she think of that now? Why didn't Jack Elliott +speak--if he had anything to tell? Why did he just stand there, +glowering importantly? + +"Ask him--ask him," she said feverishly to Allan Daly. But somebody +else had already asked him. The room grew very silent all at once. +Outside the fiddler had stopped for a rest and there was silence there +too. Afar off they heard the low moan of the gulf--the presage of a +storm already on its way up the Atlantic. A girl's laugh drifted up +from the rocks and died away as if frightened out of existence by the +sudden stillness. + +"England declared war on Germany today," said Jack Elliott slowly. "The +news came by wire just as I left town." + +"God help us," whispered Gertrude Oliver under her breath. "My +dream--my dream! The first wave has broken." She looked at Allan Daly +and tried to smile. + +"Is this Armageddon?" she asked. + +"I am afraid so," he said gravely. + +A chorus of exclamations had arisen round them--light surprise and idle +interest for the most part. Few there realized the import of the +message--fewer still realized that it meant anything to them. Before +long the dancing was on again and the hum of pleasure was as loud as +ever. Gertrude and Allan Daly talked the news over in low, troubled +tones. Walter Blythe had turned pale and left the room. Outside he met +Jem, hurrying up the rock steps. + +"Have you heard the news, Jem?" + +"Yes. The Piper has come. Hurrah! I knew England wouldn't leave France +in the lurch. I've been trying to get Captain Josiah to hoist the flag +but he says it isn't the proper caper till sunrise. Jack says they'll +be calling for volunteers tomorrow." + +"What a fuss to make over nothing," said Mary Vance disdainfully as Jem +dashed off. She was sitting out with Miller Douglas on a lobster trap +which was not only an unromantic but an uncomfortable seat. But Mary +and Miller were both supremely happy on it. Miller Douglas was a big, +strapping, uncouth lad, who thought Mary Vance's tongue uncommonly +gifted and Mary Vance's white eyes stars of the first magnitude; and +neither of them had the least inkling why Jem Blythe wanted to hoist +the lighthouse flag. "What does it matter if there's going to be a war +over there in Europe? I'm sure it doesn't concern us." + +Walter looked at her and had one of his odd visitations of prophecy. + +"Before this war is over," he said--or something said through his +lips--"every man and woman and child in Canada will feel it--you, Mary, +will feel it--feel it to your heart's core. You will weep tears of +blood over it. The Piper has come--and he will pipe until every corner +of the world has heard his awful and irresistible music. It will be +years before the dance of death is over--years, Mary. And in those +years millions of hearts will break." + +"Fancy now!" said Mary who always said that when she couldn't think of +anything else to say. She didn't know what Walter meant but she felt +uncomfortable. Walter Blythe was always saying odd things. That old +Piper of his--she hadn't heard anything about him since their playdays +in Rainbow Valley--and now here he was bobbing up again. She didn't +like it, and that was the long and short of it. + +"Aren't you painting it rather strong, Walter?" asked Harvey Crawford, +coming up just then. "This war won't last for years--it'll be over in a +month or two. England will just wipe Germany off the map in no time." + +"Do you think a war for which Germany has been preparing for twenty +years will be over in a few weeks?" said Walter passionately. "This +isn't a paltry struggle in a Balkan corner, Harvey. It is a death +grapple. Germany comes to conquer or to die. And do you know what will +happen if she conquers? Canada will be a German colony." + +"Well, I guess a few things will happen before that," said Harvey +shrugging his shoulders. "The British navy would have to be licked for +one; and for another, Miller here, now, and I, we'd raise a dust, +wouldn't we, Miller? No Germans need apply for this old country, eh?" + +Harvey ran down the steps laughing. + +"I declare, I think all you boys talk the craziest stuff," said Mary +Vance in disgust. She got up and dragged Miller off to the rock-shore. +It didn't happen often that they had a chance for a talk together; Mary +was determined that this one shouldn't be spoiled by Walter Blythe's +silly blather about Pipers and Germans and such like absurd things. +They left Walter standing alone on the rock steps, looking out over the +beauty of Four Winds with brooding eyes that saw it not. + +The best of the evening was over for Rilla, too. Ever since Jack +Elliott's announcement, she had sensed that Kenneth was no longer +thinking about her. She felt suddenly lonely and unhappy. It was worse +than if he had never noticed her at all. Was life like this--something +delightful happening and then, just as you were revelling in it, +slipping away from you? Rilla told herself pathetically that she felt +years older than when she had left home that evening. Perhaps she +did--perhaps she was. Who knows? It does not do to laugh at the pangs +of youth. They are very terrible because youth has not yet learned that +"this, too, will pass away." Rilla sighed and wished she were home, in +bed, crying into her pillow. + +"Tired?" said Kenneth, gently but absently--oh, so absently. He really +didn't care a bit whether she were tired or not, she thought. + +"Kenneth," she ventured timidly, "you don't think this war will matter +much to us in Canada, do you?" + +"Matter? Of course it will matter to the lucky fellows who will be able +to take a hand. I won't--thanks to this confounded ankle. Rotten luck, +I call it." + +"I don't see why we should fight England's battles," cried Rilla. +"She's quite able to fight them herself." + +"That isn't the point. We are part of the British Empire. It's a family +affair. We've got to stand by each other. The worst of it is, it will +be over before I can be of any use." + +"Do you mean that you would really volunteer to go if it wasn't for +your ankle? asked Rilla incredulously. + +"Sure I would. You see they'll go by thousands. Jem'll be off, I'll bet +a cent--Walter won't be strong enough yet, I suppose. And Jerry +Meredith--he'll go! And I was worrying about being out of football this +year!" + +Rilla was too startled to say anything. Jem--and Jerry! Nonsense! Why +father and Mr. Meredith wouldn't allow it. They weren't through +college. Oh, why hadn't Jack Elliott kept his horrid news to himself? + +Mark Warren came up and asked her to dance. Rilla went, knowing Kenneth +didn't care whether she went or stayed. An hour ago on the sand-shore +he had been looking at her as if she were the only being of any +importance in the world. And now she was nobody. His thoughts were full +of this Great Game which was to be played out on bloodstained fields +with empires for stakes--a Game in which womenkind could have no part. +Women, thought Rilla miserably, just had to sit and cry at home. But +all this was foolishness. Kenneth couldn't go--he admitted that +himself--and Walter couldn't--thank goodness for that--and Jem and +Jerry would have more sense. She wouldn't worry--she would enjoy +herself. But how awkward Mark Warren was! How he bungled his steps! +Why, for mercy's sake, did boys try to dance who didn't know the first +thing about dancing; and who had feet as big as boats? There, he had +bumped her into somebody! She would never dance with him again! + +She danced with others, though the zest was gone out of the performance +and she had begun to realize that her slippers hurt her badly. Kenneth +seemed to have gone--at least nothing was to be seen of him. Her first +party was spoiled, though it had seemed so beautiful at one time. Her +head ached--her toes burned. And worse was yet to come. She had gone +down with some over-harbour friends to the rock-shore where they all +lingered as dance after dance went on above them. It was cool and +pleasant and they were tired. Rilla sat silent, taking no part in the +gay conversation. She was glad when someone called down that the +over-harbour boats were leaving. A laughing scramble up the lighthouse +rock followed. A few couples still whirled about in the pavilion but +the crowd had thinned out. Rilla looked about her for the Glen group. +She could not see one of them. She ran into the lighthouse. Still, no +sign of anybody. In dismay she ran to the rock steps, down which the +over-harbour guests were hurrying. She could see the boats below--where +was Jem's--where was Joe's? + +"Why, Rilla Blythe, I thought you'd be gone home long ago," said Mary +Vance, who was waving her scarf at a boat skimming up the channel, +skippered by Miller Douglas. + +"Where are the rest?" gasped Rilla. + +"Why, they're gone--Jem went an hour ago--Una had a headache. And the +rest went with Joe about fifteen minutes ago. See--they're just going +around Birch Point. I didn't go because it's getting rough and I knew +I'd be seasick. I don't mind walking home from here. It's only a mile +and a half. I s'posed you'd gone. Where were you?" + +"Down on the rocks with Jem and Mollie Crawford. Oh, why didn't they +look for me?" + +"They did--but you couldn't be found. Then they concluded you must have +gone in the other boat. Don't worry. You can stay all night with me and +we'll 'phone up to Ingleside where you are." + +Rilla realized that there was nothing else to do. Her lips trembled and +tears came into her eyes. She blinked savagely--she would not let Mary +Vance see her crying. But to be forgotten like this! To think nobody +had thought it worth while to make sure where she was--not even Walter. +Then she had a sudden dismayed recollection. + +"My shoes," she exclaimed. "I left them in the boat." + +"Well, I never," said Mary. "You're the most thoughtless kid I ever +saw. You'll have to ask Hazel Lewison to lend you a pair of shoes." + +"I won't." cried Rilla, who didn't like the said Hazel. "I'll go +barefoot first." + +Mary shrugged her shoulders. + +"Just as you like. Pride must suffer pain. It'll teach you to be more +careful. Well, let's hike." + +Accordingly they hiked. But to "hike" along a deep-rutted, pebbly lane +in frail, silver-hued slippers with high French heels, is not an +exhilarating performance. Rilla managed to limp and totter along until +they reached the harbour road; but she could go no farther in those +detestable slippers. She took them and her dear silk stockings off and +started barefoot. That was not pleasant either; her feet were very +tender and the pebbles and ruts of the road hurt them. Her blistered +heels smarted. But physical pain was almost forgotten in the sting of +humiliation. This was a nice predicament! If Kenneth Ford could see her +now, limping along like a little girl with a stone bruise! Oh, what a +horrid way for her lovely party to end! She just had to cry--it was too +terrible. Nobody cared for her--nobody bothered about her at all. Well, +if she caught cold from walking home barefoot on a dew-wet road and +went into a decline perhaps they would be sorry. She furtively wiped +her tears away with her scarf--handkerchiefs seemed to have vanished +like shoes!--but she could not help sniffling. Worse and worse! + +"You've got a cold, I see," said Mary. "You ought to have known you +would, sitting down in the wind on those rocks. Your mother won't let +you go out again in a hurry I can tell you. It's certainly been +something of a party. The Lewisons know how to do things, I'll say that +for them, though Hazel Lewison is no choice of mine. My, how black she +looked when she saw you dancing with Ken Ford. And so did that little +hussy of an Ethel Reese. What a flirt he is!" + +"I don't think he's a flirt," said Rilla as defiantly as two desperate +sniffs would let her. + +"You'll know more about men when you're as old as I am," said Mary +patronizingly. "Mind you, it doesn't do to believe all they tell you. +Don't let Ken Ford think that all he has to do to get you on a string +is to drop his handkerchief. Have more spirit than that, child." + +To be thus hectored and patronized by Mary Vance was unendurable! And +it was unendurable to walk on stony roads with blistered heels and bare +feet! And it was unendurable to be crying and have no handkerchief and +not to be able to stop crying! + +"I'm not thinking"--sniff--"about Kenneth"--sniff--"Ford"--two +sniffs--"at all," cried tortured Rilla. + +"There's no need to fly off the handle, child. You ought to be willing +to take advice from older people. I saw how you slipped over to the +sands with Ken and stayed there ever so long with him. Your mother +wouldn't like it if she knew." + +"I'll tell my mother all about it--and Miss Oliver--and Walter," Rilla +gasped between sniffs. "You sat for hours with Miller Douglas on that +lobster trap, Mary Vance! What would Mrs. Elliott say to that if she +knew?" + +"Oh, I'm not going to quarrel with you," said Mary, suddenly retreating +to high and lofty ground. "All I say is, you should wait until you're +grown-up before you do things like that." + +Rilla gave up trying to hide the fact that she was crying. Everything +was spoiled--even that beautiful, dreamy, romantic, moonlit hour with +Kenneth on the sands was vulgarized and cheapened. She loathed Mary +Vance. + +"Why, whatever's wrong?" cried mystified Mary. "What are you crying +for?" + +"My feet--hurt so--" sobbed Rilla clinging to the last shred of her +pride. It was less humiliating to admit crying because of your feet +than because--because somebody had been amusing himself with you, and +your friends had forgotten you, and other people patronized you. + +"I daresay they do," said Mary, not unkindly. "Never mind. I know where +there's a pot of goose-grease in Cornelia's tidy pantry and it beats +all the fancy cold creams in the world. I'll put some on your heels +before you go to bed." + +Goose-grease on your heels! So this was what your first party and your +first beau and your first moonlit romance ended in! + +Rilla gave over crying in sheer disgust at the futility of tears and +went to sleep in Mary Vance's bed in the calm of despair. Outside, the +dawn came greyly in on wings of storm; Captain Josiah, true to his +word, ran up the Union Jack at the Four Winds Light and it streamed on +the fierce wind against the clouded sky like a gallant unquenchable +beacon. + + + +CHAPTER V + +"THE SOUND OF A GOING" + +Rilla ran down through the sunlit glory of the maple grove behind +Ingleside, to her favourite nook in Rainbow Valley. She sat down on a +green-mossed stone among the fern, propped her chin on her hands and +stared unseeingly at the dazzling blue sky of the August afternoon--so +blue, so peaceful, so unchanged, just as it had arched over the valley +in the mellow days of late summer ever since she could remember. + +She wanted to be alone--to think things out--to adjust herself, if it +were possible, to the new world into which she seemed to have been +transplanted with a suddenness and completeness that left her half +bewildered as to her own identity. Was she--could she be--the same +Rilla Blythe who had danced at Four Winds Light six days ago--only six +days ago? It seemed to Rilla that she had lived as much in those six +days as in all her previous life--and if it be true that we should +count time by heart-throbs she had. That evening, with its hopes and +fears and triumphs and humiliations, seemed like ancient history now. +Could she really ever have cried just because she had been forgotten +and had to walk home with Mary Vance? Ah, thought Rilla sadly, how +trivial and absurd such a cause of tears now appeared to her. She could +cry now with a right good will--but she would not--she must not. What +was it mother had said, looking, with her white lips and stricken eyes, +as Rilla had never seen her mother look before, + + "When our women fail in courage, + Shall our men be fearless still?" + +Yes, that was it. She must be brave--like mother--and Nan--and +Faith--Faith, who had cried with flashing eyes, "Oh, if I were only a +man, to go too!" Only, when her eyes ached and her throat burned like +this she had to hide herself in Rainbow Valley for a little, just to +think things out and remember that she wasn't a child any longer--she +was grown-up and women had to face things like this. But it +was--nice--to get away alone now and then, where nobody could see her +and where she needn't feel that people thought her a little coward if +some tears came in spite of her. + +How sweet and woodsey the ferns smelled! How softly the great feathery +boughs of the firs waved and murmured over her! How elfinly rang the +bells of the "Tree Lovers"--just a tinkle now and then as the breeze +swept by! How purple and elusive the haze where incense was being +offered on many an altar of the hills! How the maple leaves whitened in +the wind until the grove seemed covered with pale silvery blossoms! +Everything was just the same as she had seen it hundreds of times; and +yet the whole face of the world seemed changed. + +"How wicked I was to wish that something dramatic would happen!" she +thought. "Oh, if we could only have those dear, monotonous, pleasant +days back again! I would never, never grumble about them again." + +Rilla's world had tumbled to pieces the very day after the party. As +they lingered around the dinner table at Ingleside, talking of the war, +the telephone had rung. It was a long-distance call from Charlottetown +for Jem. When he had finished talking he hung up the receiver and +turned around, with a flushed face and glowing eyes. Before he had said +a word his mother and Nan and Di had turned pale. As for Rilla, for the +first time in her life she felt that every one must hear her heart +beating and that something had clutched at her throat. + +"They are calling for volunteers in town, father," said Jem. "Scores +have joined up already. I'm going in tonight to enlist." + +"Oh--Little Jem," cried Mrs. Blythe brokenly. She had not called him +that for many years--not since the day he had rebelled against it. +"Oh--no--no--Little Jem." + +"I must, mother. I'm right--am I not, father?" said Jem. + +Dr. Blythe had risen. He was very pale, too, and his voice was husky. +But he did not hesitate. + +"Yes, Jem, yes--if you feel that way, yes--" + +Mrs. Blythe covered her face. Walter stared moodily at his plate. Nan +and Di clasped each others' hands. Shirley tried to look unconcerned. +Susan sat as if paralysed, her piece of pie half-eaten on her plate. +Susan never did finish that piece of pie--a fact which bore eloquent +testimony to the upheaval in her inner woman for Susan considered it a +cardinal offence against civilized society to begin to eat anything and +not finish it. That was wilful waste, hens to the contrary +notwithstanding. + +Jem turned to the phone again. "I must ring the manse. Jerry will want +to go, too." + +At this Nan had cried out "Oh!" as if a knife had been thrust into her, +and rushed from the room. Di followed her. Rilla turned to Walter for +comfort but Walter was lost to her in some reverie she could not share. + +"All right," Jem was saying, as coolly as if he were arranging the +details of a picnic. "I thought you would--yes, tonight--the seven +o'clock--meet me at the station. So long." + +"Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan. "I wish you would wake me up. Am I +dreaming--or am I awake? Does that blessed boy realize what he is +saying? Does he mean that he is going to enlist as a soldier? You do +not mean to tell me that they want children like him! It is an outrage. +Surely you and the doctor will not permit it." + +"We can't stop him," said Mrs. Blythe, chokingly. "Oh, Gilbert!" + +Dr. Blythe came up behind his wife and took her hand gently, looking +down into the sweet grey eyes that he had only once before seen filled +with such imploring anguish as now. They both thought of that other +time--the day years ago in the House of Dreams when little Joyce had +died. + +"Would you have him stay, Anne--when the others are going--when he +thinks it his duty--would you have him so selfish and small-souled?" + +"No--no! But--oh--our first-born son--he's only a lad--Gilbert--I'll +try to be brave after a while--just now I can't. It's all come so +suddenly. Give me time." + +The doctor and his wife went out of the room. Jem had gone--Walter had +gone--Shirley got up to go. Rilla and Susan remained staring at each +other across the deserted table. Rilla had not yet cried--she was too +stunned for tears. Then she saw that Susan was crying--Susan, whom she +had never seen shed a tear before. + +"Oh, Susan, will he really go?" she asked. + +"It--it--it is just ridiculous, that is what it is," said Susan. + +She wiped away her tears, gulped resolutely and got up. + +"I am going to wash the dishes. That has to be done, even if everybody +has gone crazy. There now, dearie, do not you cry. Jem will go, most +likely--but the war will be over long before he gets anywhere near it. +Let us take a brace and not worry your poor mother." + +"In the Enterprise today it was reported that Lord Kitchener says the +war will last three years," said Rilla dubiously. + +"I am not acquainted with Lord Kitchener," said Susan, composedly, "but +I dare say he makes mistakes as often as other people. Your father says +it will be over in a few months and I have as much faith in his opinion +as I have in Lord Anybody's. So just let us be calm and trust in the +Almighty and get this place tidied up. I am done with crying which is a +waste of time and discourages everybody." + +Jem and Jerry went to Charlottetown that night and two days later they +came back in khaki. The Glen hummed with excitement over it. Life at +Ingleside had suddenly become a tense, strained, thrilling thing. Mrs. +Blythe and Nan were brave and smiling and wonderful. Already Mrs. +Blythe and Miss Cornelia were organizing a Red Cross. The doctor and +Mr. Meredith were rounding up the men for a Patriotic Society. Rilla, +after the first shock, reacted to the romance of it all, in spite of +her heartache. Jem certainly looked magnificent in his uniform. It was +splendid to think of the lads of Canada answering so speedily and +fearlessly and uncalculatingly to the call of their country. Rilla +carried her head high among the girls whose brothers had not so +responded. In her diary she wrote: + + "He goes to do what I had done + Had Douglas's daughter been his son," + +and was sure she meant it. If she were a boy of course she would go, +too! She hadn't the least doubt of that. + +She wondered if it was very dreadful of her to feel glad that Walter +hadn't got strong as soon as they had wished after the fever. + +"I couldn't bear to have Walter go," she wrote. "I love Jem ever so +much but Walter means more to me than anyone in the world and I would +die if he had to go. He seems so changed these days. He hardly ever +talks to me. I suppose he wants to go, too, and feels badly because he +can't. He doesn't go about with Jem and Jerry at all. I shall never +forget Susan's face when Jem came home in his khaki. It worked and +twisted as if she were going to cry, but all she said was, 'You look +almost like a man in that, Jem.' Jem laughed. He never minds because +Susan thinks him just a child still. Everybody seems busy but me. I +wish there was something I could do but there doesn't seem to be +anything. Mother and Nan and Di are busy all the time and I just wander +about like a lonely ghost. What hurts me terribly, though, is that +mother's smiles, and Nan's, just seem put on from the outside. Mother's +eyes never laugh now. It makes me feel that I shouldn't laugh +either--that it's wicked to feel laughy. And it's so hard for me to +keep from laughing, even if Jem is going to be a soldier. But when I +laugh I don't enjoy it either, as I used to do. There's something +behind it all that keeps hurting me--especially when I wake up in the +night. Then I cry because I am afraid that Kitchener of Khartoum is +right and the war will last for years and Jem may be--but no, I won't +write it. It would make me feel as if it were really going to happen. +The other day Nan said, 'Nothing can ever be quite the same for any of +us again.' It made me feel rebellious. Why shouldn't things be the same +again--when everything is over and Jem and Jerry are back? We'll all be +happy and jolly again and these days will seem just like a bad dream. + +"The coming of the mail is the most exciting event of every day now. +Father just snatches the paper--I never saw father snatch before--and +the rest of us crowd round and look at the headlines over his shoulder. +Susan vows she does not and will not believe a word the papers say but +she always comes to the kitchen door, and listens and then goes back, +shaking her head. She is terribly indignant all the time, but she cooks +up all the things Jem likes especially, and she did not make a single +bit of fuss when she found Monday asleep on the spare-room bed +yesterday right on top of Mrs. Rachel Lynde's apple-leaf spread. 'The +Almighty only knows where your master will be having to sleep before +long, you poor dumb beast,' she said as she put him quite gently out. +But she never relents towards Doc. She says the minute he saw Jem in +khaki he turned into Mr. Hyde then and there and she thinks that ought +to be proof enough of what he really is. Susan is funny, but she is an +old dear. Shirley says she is one half angel and the other half good +cook. But then Shirley is the only one of us she never scolds. + +"Faith Meredith is wonderful. I think she and Jem are really engaged +now. She goes about with a shining light in her eyes, but her smiles +are a little stiff and starched, just like mother's. I wonder if I +could be as brave as she is if I had a lover and he was going to the +war. It is bad enough when it is your brother. Bruce Meredith cried all +night, Mrs. Meredith says, when he heard Jem and Jerry were going. And +he wanted to know if the 'K of K.' his father talked about was the King +of Kings. He is the dearest kiddy. I just love him--though I don't +really care much for children. I don't like babies one bit--though when +I say so people look at me as if I had said something perfectly +shocking. Well, I don't, and I've got to be honest about it. I don't +mind looking at a nice clean baby if somebody else holds it--but I +wouldn't touch it for anything and I don't feel a single real spark of +interest in it. Gertrude Oliver says she just feels the same. (She is +the most honest person I know. She never pretends anything.) She says +babies bore her until they are old enough to talk and then she likes +them--but still a good ways off. Mother and Nan and Di all adore babies +and seem to think I'm unnatural because I don't. + +"I haven't seen Kenneth since the night of the party. He was here one +evening after Jem came back but I happened to be away. I don't think he +mentioned me at all--at least nobody told me he did and I was +determined I wouldn't ask--but I don't care in the least. All that +matters absolutely nothing to me now. The only thing that does matter +is that Jem has volunteered for active service and will be going to +Valcartier in a few more days--my big, splendid brother Jem. Oh, I'm so +proud of him! + +"I suppose Kenneth would enlist too if it weren't for his ankle. I +think that is quite providential. He is his mother's only son and how +dreadful she would feel if he went. Only sons should never think of +going!" + +Walter came wandering through the valley as Rilla sat there, with his +head bent and his hands clasped behind him. When he saw Rilla he turned +abruptly away; then as abruptly he turned and came back to her. + +"Rilla-my-Rilla, what are you thinking of?" + +"Everything is so changed, Walter," said Rilla wistfully. "Even +you--you're changed. A week ago we were all so happy--and--and--now I +just can't find myself at all. I'm lost." + +Walter sat down on a neighbouring stone and took Rilla's little +appealing hand. + +"I'm afraid our old world has come to an end, Rilla. We've got to face +that fact." + +"It's so terrible to think of Jem," pleaded Rilla. "Sometimes I forget +for a little while what it really means and feel excited and proud--and +then it comes over me again like a cold wind." + +"I envy Jem!" said Walter moodily. + +"Envy Jem! Oh, Walter you--you don't want to go too." + +"No," said Walter, gazing straight before him down the emerald vistas +of the valley, "no, I don't want to go. That's just the trouble. Rilla, +I'm afraid to go. I'm a coward." + +"You're not!" Rilla burst out angrily. "Why, anybody would be afraid to +go. You might be--why, you might be killed." + +"I wouldn't mind that if it didn't hurt," muttered Walter. "I don't +think I'm afraid of death itself--it's of the pain that might come +before death--it wouldn't be so bad to die and have it over--but to +keep on dying! Rilla, I've always been afraid of pain--you know that. I +can't help it--I shudder when I think of the possibility of being +mangled or--or blinded. Rilla, I cannot face that thought. To be +blind--never to see the beauty of the world again--moonlight on Four +Winds--the stars twinkling through the fir-trees--mist on the gulf. I +ought to go--I ought to want to go--but I don't--I hate the thought of +it--I'm ashamed--ashamed." + +"But, Walter, you couldn't go anyhow," said Rilla piteously. She was +sick with a new terror that Walter would go after all. "You're not +strong enough." + +"I am. I've felt as fit as ever I did this last month. I'd pass any +examination--I know it. Everybody thinks I'm not strong yet--and I'm +skulking behind that belief. I--I should have been a girl," Walter +concluded in a burst of passionate bitterness. + +"Even if you were strong enough, you oughtn't to go," sobbed Rilla. +"What would mother do? She's breaking her heart over Jem. It would kill +her to see you both go." + +"Oh, I'm not going--don't worry. I tell you I'm afraid to go--afraid. I +don't mince the matter to myself. It's a relief to own up even to you, +Rilla. I wouldn't confess it to anybody else--Nan and Di would despise +me. But I hate the whole thing--the horror, the pain, the ugliness. War +isn't a khaki uniform or a drill parade--everything I've read in old +histories haunts me. I lie awake at night and see things that have +happened--see the blood and filth and misery of it all. And a bayonet +charge! If I could face the other things I could never face that. It +turns me sick to think of it--sicker even to think of giving it than +receiving it--to think of thrusting a bayonet through another man." +Walter writhed and shuddered. "I think of these things all the +time--and it doesn't seem to me that Jem and Jerry ever think of them. +They laugh and talk about 'potting Huns'! But it maddens me to see them +in the khaki. And they think I'm grumpy because I'm not fit to go." + +Walter laughed bitterly. "It is not a nice thing to feel yourself a +coward." But Rilla got her arms about him and cuddled her head on his +shoulder. She was so glad he didn't want to go--for just one minute she +had been horribly frightened. And it was so nice to have Walter +confiding his troubles to her--to her, not Di. She didn't feel so +lonely and superfluous any longer. + +"Don't you despise me, Rilla-my-Rilla?" asked Walter wistfully. +Somehow, it hurt him to think Rilla might despise him--hurt him as much +as if it had been Di. He realized suddenly how very fond he was of this +adoring kid sister with her appealing eyes and troubled, girlish face. + +"No, I don't. Why, Walter, hundreds of people feel just as you do. You +know what that verse of Shakespeare in the old Fifth Reader says--'the +brave man is not he who feels no fear.'" + +"No--but it is 'he whose noble soul its fear subdues.' I don't do that. +We can't gloss it over, Rilla. I'm a coward." + +"You're not. Think of how you fought Dan Reese long ago." + +"One spurt of courage isn't enough for a lifetime." + +"Walter, one time I heard father say that the trouble with you was a +sensitive nature and a vivid imagination. You feel things before they +really come--feel them all alone when there isn't anything to help you +bear them--to take away from them. It isn't anything to be ashamed of. +When you and Jem got your hands burned when the grass was fired on the +sand-hills two years ago Jem made twice the fuss over the pain that you +did. As for this horrid old war, there'll be plenty to go without you. +It won't last long." + +"I wish I could believe it. Well, it's supper-time, Rilla. You'd better +run. I don't want anything." + +"Neither do I. I couldn't eat a mouthful. Let me stay here with you, +Walter. It's such a comfort to talk things over with someone. The rest +all think that I'm too much of a baby to understand." + +So they two sat there in the old valley until the evening star shone +through a pale-grey, gauzy cloud over the maple grove, and a fragrant +dewy darkness filled their little sylvan dell. It was one of the +evenings Rilla was to treasure in remembrance all her life--the first +one on which Walter had ever talked to her as if she were a woman and +not a child. They comforted and strengthened each other. Walter felt, +for the time being at least, that it was not such a despicable thing +after all to dread the horror of war; and Rilla was glad to be made the +confidante of his struggles--to sympathize with and encourage him. She +was of importance to somebody. + +When they went back to Ingleside they found callers sitting on the +veranda. Mr. and Mrs. Meredith had come over from the manse, and Mr. +and Mrs. Norman Douglas had come up from the farm. Cousin Sophia was +there also, sitting with Susan in the shadowy background. Mrs. Blythe +and Nan and Di were away, but Dr. Blythe was home and so was Dr. +Jekyll, sitting in golden majesty on the top step. And of course they +were all talking of the war, except Dr. Jekyll who kept his own counsel +and looked contempt as only a cat can. When two people foregathered in +those days they talked of the war; and old Highland Sandy of the +Harbour Head talked of it when he was alone and hurled anathemas at the +Kaiser across all the acres of his farm. Walter slipped away, not +caring to see or be seen, but Rilla sat down on the steps, where the +garden mint was dewy and pungent. It was a very calm evening with a +dim, golden afterlight irradiating the glen. She felt happier than at +any time in the dreadful week that had passed. She was no longer +haunted by the fear that Walter would go. + +"I'd go myself if I was twenty years younger," Norman Douglas was +shouting. Norman always shouted when he was excited. "I'd show the +Kaiser a thing or two! Did I ever say there wasn't a hell? Of course +there's a hell--dozens of hells--hundreds of hells--where the Kaiser +and all his brood are bound for." + +"I knew this war was coming," said Mrs. Norman triumphantly. "I saw it +coming right along. I could have told all those stupid Englishmen what +was ahead of them. I told you, John Meredith, years ago what the Kaiser +was up to but you wouldn't believe it. You said he would never plunge +the world in war. Who was right about the Kaiser, John? You--or I? Tell +me that." + +"You were, I admit," said Mr. Meredith. + +"It's too late to admit it now," said Mrs. Norman, shaking her head, as +if to intimate that if John Meredith had admitted it sooner there might +have been no war. + +"Thank God, England's navy is ready," said the doctor. + +"Amen to that," nodded Mrs. Norman. "Bat-blind as most of them were +somebody had foresight enough to see to that." + +"Maybe England'll manage not to get into trouble over it," said Cousin +Sophia plaintively. "I dunno. But I'm much afraid." + +"One would suppose that England was in trouble over it already, up to +her neck, Sophia Crawford," said Susan. "But your ways of thinking are +beyond me and always were. It is my opinion that the British Navy will +settle Germany in a jiffy and that we are all getting worked up over +nothing." + +Susan spat out the words as if she wanted to convince herself more than +anybody else. She had her little store of homely philosophies to guide +her through life, but she had nothing to buckler her against the +thunderbolts of the week that had just passed. What had an honest, +hard-working, Presbyterian old maid of Glen St. Mary to do with a war +thousands of miles away? Susan felt that it was indecent that she +should have to be disturbed by it. + +"The British army will settle Germany," shouted Norman. "Just wait till +it gets into line and the Kaiser will find that real war is a different +thing from parading round Berlin with your moustaches cocked up." + +"Britain hasn't got an army," said Mrs. Norman emphatically. "You +needn't glare at me, Norman. Glaring won't make soldiers out of timothy +stalks. A hundred thousand men will just be a mouthful for Germany's +millions." + +"There'll be some tough chewing in the mouthful, I reckon," persisted +Norman valiantly. "Germany'll break her teeth on it. Don't you tell me +one Britisher isn't a match for ten foreigners. I could polish off a +dozen of 'em myself with both hands tied behind my back!" + +"I am told," said Susan, "that old Mr. Pryor does not believe in this +war. I am told that he says England went into it just because she was +jealous of Germany and that she did not really care in the least what +happened to Belgium." + +"I believe he's been talking some such rot," said Norman. "I haven't +heard him. When I do, Whiskers-on-the-moon won't know what happened to +him. That precious relative of mine, Kitty Alec, holds forth to the +same effect, I understand. Not before me, though--somehow, folks don't +indulge in that kind of conversation in my presence. Lord love you, +they've a kind of presentiment, so to speak, that it wouldn't be +healthy for their complaint." + +"I am much afraid that this war has been sent as a punishment for our +sins," said Cousin Sophia, unclasping her pale hands from her lap and +reclasping them solemnly over her stomach. "'The world is very +evil--the times are waxing late.'" + +"Parson here's got something of the same idea," chuckled Norman. +"Haven't you, Parson? That's why you preached t'other night on the text +'Without shedding of blood there is no remission of sins.' I didn't +agree with you--wanted to get up in the pew and shout out that there +wasn't a word of sense in what you were saying, but Ellen, here, she +held me down. I never have any fun sassing parsons since I got married." + +"Without shedding of blood there is no anything," said Mr. Meredith, in +the gentle dreamy way which had an unexpected trick of convincing his +hearers. "Everything, it seems to me, has to be purchased by +self-sacrifice. Our race has marked every step of its painful ascent +with blood. And now torrents of it must flow again. No, Mrs. Crawford, +I don't think the war has been sent as a punishment for sin. I think it +is the price humanity must pay for some blessing--some advance great +enough to be worth the price--which we may not live to see but which +our children's children will inherit." + +"If Jerry is killed will you feel so fine about it?" demanded Norman, +who had been saying things like that all his life and never could be +made to see any reason why he shouldn't. "Now, never mind kicking me in +the shins, Ellen. I want to see if Parson meant what he said or if it +was just a pulpit frill." + +Mr. Meredith's face quivered. He had had a terrible hour alone in his +study on the night Jem and Jerry had gone to town. But he answered +quietly. + +"Whatever I felt, it could not alter my belief--my assurance that a +country whose sons are ready to lay down their lives in her defence +will win a new vision because of their sacrifice." + +"You do mean it, Parson. I can always tell when people mean what they +say. It's a gift that was born in me. Makes me a terror to most +parsons, that! But I've never caught you yet saying anything you didn't +mean. I'm always hoping I will--that's what reconciles me to going to +church. It'd be such a comfort to me--such a weapon to batter Ellen +here with when she tries to civilize me. Well, I'm off over the road to +see Ab. Crawford a minute. The gods be good to you all." + +"The old pagan!" muttered Susan, as Norman strode away. She did not +care if Ellen Douglas did hear her. Susan could never understand why +fire did not descend from heaven upon Norman Douglas when he insulted +ministers the way he did. But the astonishing thing was Mr. Meredith +seemed really to like his brother-in-law. + +Rilla wished they would talk of something besides war. She had heard +nothing else for a week and she was really a little tired of it. Now +that she was relieved from her haunting fear that Walter would want to +go it made her quite impatient. But she supposed--with a sigh--that +there would be three or four months of it yet. + + + +CHAPTER VI + +SUSAN, RILLA, AND DOG MONDAY MAKE A RESOLUTION + +The big living-room at Ingleside was snowed over with drifts of white +cotton. Word had come from Red Cross headquarters that sheets and +bandages would be required. Nan and Di and Rilla were hard at work. +Mrs. Blythe and Susan were upstairs in the boys' room, engaged in a +more personal task. With dry, anguished eyes they were packing up Jem's +belongings. He must leave for Valcartier the next morning. They had +been expecting the word but it was none the less dreadful when it came. + +Rilla was basting the hem of a sheet for the first time in her life. +When the word had come that Jem must go she had her cry out among the +pines in Rainbow Valley and then she had gone to her mother. + +"Mother, I want to do something. I'm only a girl--I can't do anything +to win the war--but I must do something to help at home." + +"The cotton has come up for the sheets," said Mrs. Blythe. "You can +help Nan and Di make them up. And Rilla, don't you think you could +organize a Junior Red Cross among the young girls? I think they would +like it better and do better work by themselves than if mixed up with +the older people." + +"But, mother--I've never done anything like that." + +"We will all have to do a great many things in the months ahead of us +that we have never done before, Rilla." + +"Well"--Rilla took the plunge--"I'll try, mother--if you'll tell me how +to begin. I have been thinking it all over and I have decided that I +must be as brave and heroic and unselfish as I can possibly be." + +Mrs. Blythe did not smile at Rilla's italics. Perhaps she did not feel +like smiling or perhaps she detected a real grain of serious purpose +behind Rilla's romantic pose. So here was Rilla hemming sheets and +organizing a Junior Red Cross in her thoughts as she hemmed; moreover, +she was enjoying it--the organizing that is, not the hemming. It was +interesting and Rilla discovered a certain aptitude in herself for it +that surprised her. Who would be president? Not she. The older girls +would not like that. Irene Howard? No, somehow Irene was not quite as +popular as she deserved to be. Marjorie Drew? No, Marjorie hadn't +enough backbone. She was too prone to agree with the last speaker. +Betty Mead--calm, capable, tactful Betty--the very one! And Una +Meredith for treasurer; and, if they were very insistent, they might +make her, Rilla, secretary. As for the various committees, they must be +chosen after the Juniors were organized, but Rilla knew just who should +be put on which. They would meet around--and there must be no +eats--Rilla knew she would have a pitched battle with Olive Kirk over +that--and everything should be strictly business-like and +constitutional. Her minute book should be covered in white with a Red +Cross on the cover--and wouldn't it be nice to have some kind of +uniform which they could all wear at the concerts they would have to +get up to raise money--something simple but smart? + +"You have basted the top hem of that sheet on one side and the bottom +hem on the other," said Di. + +Rilla picked out her stitches and reflected that she hated sewing. +Running the Junior Reds would be much more interesting. + +Mrs. Blythe was saying upstairs, "Susan, do you remember that first day +Jem lifted up his little arms to me and called me 'mo'er'--the very +first word he ever tried to say?" + +"You could not mention anything about that blessed baby that I do not +and will not remember till my dying day," said Susan drearily. + +"Susan, I keep thinking today of once when he cried for me in the +night. He was just a few months old. Gilbert didn't want me to go to +him--he said the child was well and warm and that it would be fostering +bad habits in him. But I went--and took him up--I can feel that tight +clinging of his little arms round my neck yet. Susan, if I hadn't gone +that night, twenty-one years ago, and taken my baby up when he cried +for me I couldn't face tomorrow morning." + +"I do not know how we are going to face it anyhow, Mrs. Dr. dear. But +do not tell me that it will be the final farewell. He will be back on +leave before he goes overseas, will he not?" + +"We hope so but we are not very sure. I am making up my mind that he +will not, so that there will be no disappointment to bear. Susan, I am +determined that I will send my boy off tomorrow with a smile. He shall +not carry away with him the remembrance of a weak mother who had not +the courage to send when he had the courage to go. I hope none of us +will cry." + +"I am not going to cry, Mrs. Dr. dear, and that you may tie to, but +whether I shall manage to smile or not will be as Providence ordains +and as the pit of my stomach feels. Have you room there for this +fruit-cake? And the shortbread? And the mince-pie? That blessed boy +shall not starve, whether they have anything to eat in that Quebec +place or not. Everything seems to be changing all at once, does it not? +Even the old cat at the manse has passed away. He breathed his last at +a quarter to ten last night and Bruce is quite heart-broken, they tell +me." + +"It's time that pussy went where good cats go. He must be at least +fifteen years old. He has seemed so lonely since Aunt Martha died." + +"I should not have lamented, Mrs. Dr. dear, if that Hyde-beast had died +also. He has been Mr. Hyde most of the time since Jem came home in +khaki, and that has a meaning I will maintain. I do not know what +Monday will do when Jem is gone. The creature just goes about with a +human look in his eyes that takes all the good out of me when I see it. +Ellen West used to be always railing at the Kaiser and we thought her +crazy, but now I see that there was a method in her madness. This tray +is packed, Mrs. Dr. dear, and I will go down and put in my best licks +preparing supper. I wish I knew when I would cook another supper for +Jem but such things are hidden from our eyes." + +Jem Blythe and Jerry Meredith left next morning. It was a dull day, +threatening rain, and the clouds lay in heavy grey rolls over the sky; +but almost everybody in the Glen and Four Winds and Harbour Head and +Upper Glen and over-harbour--except Whiskers-on-the-moon--was there to +see them off. The Blythe family and the Meredith family were all +smiling. Even Susan, as Providence did ordain, wore a smile, though the +effect was somewhat more painful than tears would have been. Faith and +Nan were very pale and very gallant. Rilla thought she would get on +very well if something in her throat didn't choke her, and if her lips +didn't take such spells of trembling. Dog Monday was there, too. Jem +had tried to say good-bye to him at Ingleside but Monday implored so +eloquently that Jem relented and let him go to the station. He kept +close to Jem's legs and watched every movement of his beloved master. + +"I can't bear that dog's eyes," said Mrs. Meredith. + +"The beast has more sense than most humans," said Mary Vance. "Well, +did we any of us ever think we'd live to see this day? I bawled all +night to think of Jem and Jerry going like this. I think they're plumb +deranged. Miller got a maggot in his head about going but I soon talked +him out of it--likewise his aunt said a few touching things. For once +in our lives Kitty Alec and I agree. It's a miracle that isn't likely +to happen again. There's Ken, Rilla." + +Rilla knew Kenneth was there. She had been acutely conscious of it from +the moment he had sprung from Leo West's buggy. Now he came up to her +smiling. + +"Doing the brave-smiling-sister-stunt, I see. What a crowd for the Glen +to muster! Well, I'm off home in a few days myself." + +A queer little wind of desolation that even Jem's going had not caused +blew over Rilla's spirit. + +"Why? You have another month of vacation." + +"Yes--but I can't hang around Four Winds and enjoy myself when the +world's on fire like this. It's me for little old Toronto where I'll +find some way of helping in spite of this bally ankle. I'm not looking +at Jem and Jerry--makes me too sick with envy. You girls are great--no +crying, no grim endurance. The boys'll go off with a good taste in +their mouths. I hope Persis and mother will be as game when my turn +comes." + +"Oh, Kenneth--the war will be over before your turn cometh." + +There! She had lisped again. Another great moment of life spoiled! +Well, it was her fate. And anyhow, nothing mattered. Kenneth was off +already--he was talking to Ethel Reese, who was dressed, at seven in +the morning, in the gown she had worn to the dance, and was crying. +What on earth had Ethel to cry about? None of the Reeses were in khaki. +Rilla wanted to cry, too--but she would not. What was that horrid old +Mrs. Drew saying to mother, in that melancholy whine of hers? "I don't +know how you can stand this, Mrs. Blythe. I couldn't if it was my pore +boy." And mother--oh, mother could always be depended on! How her grey +eyes flashed in her pale face. "It might have been worse, Mrs. Drew. I +might have had to urge him to go." Mrs. Drew did not understand but +Rilla did. She flung up her head. Her brother did not have to be urged +to go. + +Rilla found herself standing alone and listening to disconnected scraps +of talk as people walked up and down past her. + +"I told Mark to wait and see if they asked for a second lot of men. If +they did I'd let him go--but they won't," said Mrs. Palmer Burr. + +"I think I'll have it made with a crush girdle of velvet," said Bessie +Clow. + +"I'm frightened to look at my husband's face for fear I'll see in it +that he wants to go too," said a little over-harbour bride. + +"I'm scared stiff," said whimsical Mrs. Jim Howard. "I'm scared Jim +will enlist--and I'm scared he won't." + +"The war will be over by Christmas," said Joe Vickers. + +"Let them European nations fight it out between them," said Abner Reese. + +"When he was a boy I gave him many a good trouncing," shouted Norman +Douglas, who seemed to be referring to some one high in military +circles in Charlottetown. "Yes, sir, I walloped him well, big gun as he +is now." + +"The existence of the British Empire is at stake," said the Methodist +minister. + +"There's certainly something about uniforms," sighed Irene Howard. + +"It's a commercial war when all is said and done and not worth one drop +of good Canadian blood," said a stranger from the shore hotel. + +"The Blythe family are taking it easy," said Kate Drew. + +"Them young fools are just going for adventure," growled Nathan +Crawford. + +"I have absolute confidence in Kitchener," said the over-harbour doctor. + +In these ten minutes Rilla passed through a dizzying succession of +anger, laughter, contempt, depression and inspiration. Oh, people +were--funny! How little they understood. "Taking it easy," indeed--when +even Susan hadn't slept a wink all night! Kate Drew always was a minx. + +Rilla felt as if she were in some fantastic nightmare. Were these the +people who, three weeks ago, were talking of crops and prices and local +gossip? + +There--the train was coming--mother was holding Jem's hand--Dog Monday +was licking it--everybody was saying good-bye--the train was in! Jem +kissed Faith before everybody--old Mrs. Drew whooped hysterically--the +men, led by Kenneth, cheered--Rilla felt Jem seize her hand--"Good-bye, +Spider"--somebody kissed her cheek--she believed it was Jerry but never +was sure--they were off--the train was pulling out--Jem and Jerry were +waving to everybody--everybody was waving back--mother and Nan were +smiling still, but as if they had just forgotten to take the smile +off--Monday was howling dismally and being forcibly restrained by the +Methodist minister from tearing after the train--Susan was waving her +best bonnet and hurrahing like a man--had she gone crazy?--the train +rounded a curve. They had gone. + +Rilla came to herself with a gasp. There was a sudden quiet. Nothing to +do now but to go home--and wait. The doctor and Mrs. Blythe walked off +together--so did Nan and Faith--so did John Meredith and Rosemary. +Walter and Una and Shirley and Di and Carl and Rilla went in a group. +Susan had put her bonnet back on her head, hindside foremost, and +stalked grimly off alone. Nobody missed Dog Monday at first. When they +did Shirley went back for him. He found Dog Monday curled up in one of +the shipping-sheds near the station and tried to coax him home. Dog +Monday would not move. He wagged his tail to show he had no hard +feelings but no blandishments availed to budge him. + +"Guess Monday has made up his mind to wait there till Jem comes back," +said Shirley, trying to laugh as he rejoined the rest. This was exactly +what Dog Monday had done. His dear master had gone--he, Monday, had +been deliberately and of malice aforethought prevented from going with +him by a demon disguised in the garb of a Methodist minister. +Wherefore, he, Monday, would wait there until the smoking, snorting +monster, which had carried his hero off, carried him back. + +Ay, wait there, little faithful dog with the soft, wistful, puzzled +eyes. But it will be many a long bitter day before your boyish comrade +comes back to you. + +The doctor was away on a case that night and Susan stalked into Mrs. +Blythe's room on her way to bed to see if her adored Mrs. Dr. dear were +"comfortable and composed." She paused solemnly at the foot of the bed +and solemnly declared, + +"Mrs. Dr. dear, I have made up my mind to be a heroine." + +"Mrs. Dr. dear" found herself violently inclined to laugh--which was +manifestly unfair, since she had not laughed when Rilla had announced a +similar heroic determination. To be sure, Rilla was a slim, white-robed +thing, with a flower-like face and starry young eyes aglow with +feeling; whereas Susan was arrayed in a grey flannel nightgown of +strait simplicity, and had a strip of red woollen worsted tied around +her grey hair as a charm against neuralgia. But that should not make +any vital difference. Was it not the spirit that counted? Yet Mrs. +Blythe was hard put to it not to laugh. + +"I am not," proceeded Susan firmly, "going to lament or whine or +question the wisdom of the Almighty any more as I have been doing +lately. Whining and shirking and blaming Providence do not get us +anywhere. We have just got to grapple with whatever we have to do +whether it is weeding the onion patch, or running the Government. I +shall grapple. Those blessed boys have gone to war; and we women, Mrs. +Dr. dear, must tarry by the stuff and keep a stiff upper lip." + + + +CHAPTER VII + +A WAR-BABY AND A SOUP TUREEN + +"Liege and Namur--and now Brussels!" The doctor shook his head. "I +don't like it--I don't like it." + +"Do not you lose heart, Dr. dear; they were just defended by +foreigners," said Susan superbly. "Wait you till the Germans come +against the British; there will be a very different story to tell and +that you may tie to." + +The doctor shook his head again, but a little less gravely; perhaps +they all shared subconsciously in Susan's belief that "the thin grey +line" was unbreakable, even by the victorious rush of Germany's ready +millions. At any rate, when the terrible day came--the first of many +terrible days--with the news that the British army was driven back they +stared at each other in blank dismay. + +"It--it can't be true," gasped Nan, taking a brief refuge in temporary +incredulity. + +"I felt that there was to be bad news today," said Susan, "for that +cat-creature turned into Mr. Hyde this morning without rhyme or reason +for it, and that was no good omen." + +"'A broken, a beaten, but not a demoralized, army,'" muttered the +doctor, from a London dispatch. "Can it be England's army of which such +a thing is said?" + +"It will be a long time now before the war is ended," said Mrs. Blythe +despairingly. + +Susan's faith, which had for a moment been temporarily submerged, now +reappeared triumphantly. + +"Remember, Mrs. Dr. dear, that the British army is not the British +navy. Never forget that. And the Russians are on their way, too, though +Russians are people I do not know much about and consequently will not +tie to." + +"The Russians will not be in time to save Paris," said Walter gloomily. +"Paris is the heart of France--and the road to it is open. Oh, I +wish"--he stopped abruptly and went out. + +After a paralysed day the Ingleside folk found it was possible to +"carry on" even in the face of ever-darkening bad news. Susan worked +fiercely in her kitchen, the doctor went out on his round of visits, +Nan and Di returned to their Red Cross activities; Mrs. Blythe went to +Charlottetown to attend a Red Cross Convention; Rilla after relieving +her feelings by a stormy fit of tears in Rainbow Valley and an outburst +in her diary, remembered that she had elected to be brave and heroic. +And, she thought, it really was heroic to volunteer to drive about the +Glen and Four Winds one day, collecting promised Red Cross supplies +with Abner Crawford's old grey horse. One of the Ingleside horses was +lame and the doctor needed the other, so there was nothing for it but +the Crawford nag, a placid, unhasting, thick-skinned creature with an +amiable habit of stopping every few yards to kick a fly off one leg +with the foot of the other. Rilla felt that this, coupled with the fact +that the Germans were only fifty miles from Paris, was hardly to be +endured. But she started off gallantly on an errand fraught with +amazing results. + +Late in the afternoon she found herself, with a buggy full of parcels, +at the entrance to a grassy, deep-rutted lane leading to the harbour +shore, wondering whether it was worth while to call down at the +Anderson house. The Andersons were desperately poor and it was not +likely Mrs. Anderson had anything to give. On the other hand, her +husband, who was an Englishman by birth and who had been working in +Kingsport when the war broke out, had promptly sailed for England to +enlist there, without, it may be said, coming home or sending much hard +cash to represent him. So possibly Mrs. Anderson might feel hurt if she +were overlooked. Rilla decided to call. There were times afterwards +when she wished she hadn't, but in the long run she was very thankful +that she did. + +The Anderson house was a small and tumbledown affair, crouching in a +grove of battered spruces near the shore as if rather ashamed of itself +and anxious to hide. Rilla tied her grey nag to the rickety fence and +went to the door. It was open; and the sight she saw bereft her +temporarily of the power of speech or motion. + +Through the open door of the small bedroom opposite her, Rilla saw Mrs. +Anderson lying on the untidy bed; and Mrs. Anderson was dead. There was +no doubt of that; neither was there any doubt that the big, frowzy, +red-headed, red-faced, over-fat woman sitting near the door-way, +smoking a pipe quite comfortably, was very much alive. She rocked idly +back and forth amid her surroundings of squalid disorder, and paid no +attention whatever to the piercing wails proceeding from a cradle in +the middle of the room. + +Rilla knew the woman by sight and reputation. Her name was Mrs. +Conover; she lived down at the fishing village; she was a great-aunt of +Mrs. Anderson; and she drank as well as smoked. + +Rilla's first impulse was to turn and flee. But that would never do. +Perhaps this woman, repulsive as she was, needed help--though she +certainly did not look as if she were worrying over the lack of it. + +"Come in," said Mrs. Conover, removing her pipe and staring at Rilla +with her little, rat-like eyes. + +"Is--is Mrs. Anderson really dead?" asked Rilla timidly, as she stepped +over the sill. + +"Dead as a door nail," responded Mrs. Conover cheerfully. "Kicked the +bucket half an hour ago. I've sent Jen Conover to 'phone for the +undertaker and get some help up from the shore. You're the doctor's +miss, ain't ye? Have a cheer?" + +Rilla did not see any chair which was not cluttered with something. She +remained standing. + +"Wasn't it--very sudden?" + +"Well, she's been a-pining ever since that worthless Jim lit out for +England--which I say it's a pity as he ever left. It's my belief she +was took for death when she heard the news. That young un there was +born a fortnight ago and since then she's just gone down and today she +up and died, without a soul expecting it." + +"Is there anything I can do to--to help?" hesitated Rilla. + +"Bless yez, no--unless ye've a knack with kids. I haven't. That young +un there never lets up squalling, day or night. I've just got that I +take no notice of it." + +Rilla tiptoed gingerly over to the cradle and more gingerly still +pulled down the dirty blanket. She had no intention of touching the +baby--she had no "knack with kids" either. She saw an ugly midget with +a red, distorted little face, rolled up in a piece of dingy old +flannel. She had never seen an uglier baby. Yet a feeling of pity for +the desolate, orphaned mite which had "come out of the everywhere" into +such a dubious "here", took sudden possession of her. + +"What is going to become of the baby?" she asked. + +"Lord knows," said Mrs. Conover candidly. "Min worried awful over that +before she died. She kept on a-saying 'Oh, what will become of my pore +baby' till it really got on my nerves. I ain't a-going to trouble +myself with it, I can tell yez. I brung up a boy that my sister left +and he skinned out as soon as he got to be some good and won't give me +a mite o' help in my old age, ungrateful whelp as he is. I told Min +it'd have to be sent to an orphan asylum till we'd see if Jim ever came +back to look after it. Would yez believe it, she didn't relish the +idee. But that's the long and short of it." + +"But who will look after it until it can be taken to the asylum?" +persisted Rilla. Somehow the baby's fate worried her. + +"S'pose I'll have to," grunted Mrs. Conover. She put away her pipe and +took an unblushing swig from a black bottle she produced from a shelf +near her. "It's my opinion the kid won't live long. It's sickly. Min +never had no gimp and I guess it hain't either. Likely it won't trouble +any one long and good riddance, sez I." + +Rilla drew the blanket down a little farther. + +"Why, the baby isn't dressed!" she exclaimed, in a shocked tone. + +"Who was to dress him I'd like to know," demanded Mrs. Conover +truculently. "I hadn't time--took me all the time there was looking +after Min. 'Sides, as I told yez, I don't know nithing about kids. Old +Mrs. Billy Crawford, she was here when it was born and she washed it +and rolled it up in that flannel, and Jen she's tended it a bit since. +The critter is warm enough. This weather would melt a brass monkey." + +Rilla was silent, looking down at the crying baby. She had never +encountered any of the tragedies of life before and this one smote her +to the core of her heart. The thought of the poor mother going down +into the valley of the shadow alone, fretting about her baby, with no +one near but this abominable old woman, hurt her terribly. If she had +only come a little sooner! Yet what could she have done--what could she +do now? She didn't know, but she must do something. She hated +babies--but she simply could not go away and leave that poor little +creature with Mrs. Conover--who was applying herself again to her black +bottle and would probably be helplessly drunk before anybody came. + +"I can't stay," thought Rilla. "Mr. Crawford said I must be home by +supper-time because he wanted the pony this evening himself. Oh, what +can I do?" + +She made a sudden, desperate, impulsive resolution. + +"I'll take the baby home with me," she said. "Can I?" + +"Sure, if yez wants to," said Mrs. Conover amiably. "I hain't any +objection. Take it and welcome." + +"I--I can't carry it," said Rilla. "I have to drive the horse and I'd +be afraid I'd drop it. Is there a--a basket anywhere that I could put +it in?" + +"Not as I knows on. There ain't much here of anything, I kin tell yez. +Min was pore and as shiftless as Jim. Ef ye opens that drawer over +there yez'll find a few baby clo'es. Best take them along." + +Rilla got the clothes--the cheap, sleazy garments the poor mother had +made ready as best she could. But this did not solve the pressing +problem of the baby's transportation. Rilla looked helplessly round. +Oh, for mother--or Susan! Her eyes fell on an enormous blue soup tureen +at the back of the dresser. + +"May I have this to--to lay him in?" she asked. + +"Well, 'tain't mine but I guess yez kin take it. Don't smash it if yez +can help--Jim might make a fuss about it if he comes back alive--which +he sure will, seein' he ain't any good. He brung that old tureen out +from England with him--said it'd always been in the family. Him and Min +never used it--never had enough soup to put in it--but Jim thought the +world of it. He was mighty perticuler about some things but didn't +worry him none that there weren't much in the way o' eatables to put in +the dishes." + +For the first time in her life Rilla Blythe touched a baby--lifted +it--rolled it in a blanket, trembling with nervousness lest she drop it +or--or--break it. Then she put it in the soup tureen. + +"Is there any fear of it smothering?" she asked anxiously. + +"Not much odds if it do," said Mrs. Conover. + +Horrified Rilla loosened the blanket round the baby's face a little. +The mite had stopped crying and was blinking up at her. It had big dark +eyes in its ugly little face. + +"Better not let the wind blow on it," admonished Mrs. Conover. "Take +its breath if it do." + +Rilla wrapped the tattered little quilt around the soup tureen. + +"Will you hand this to me after I get into the buggy, please?" + +"Sure I will," said Mrs. Conover, getting up with a grunt. + +And so it was that Rilla Blythe, who had driven to the Anderson house a +self-confessed hater of babies, drove away from it carrying one in a +soup tureen on her lap! + +Rilla thought she would never get to Ingleside. In the soup tureen +there was an uncanny silence. In one way she was thankful the baby did +not cry but she wished it would give an occasional squeak to prove that +it was alive. Suppose it were smothered! Rilla dared not unwrap it to +see, lest the wind, which was now blowing a hurricane, should "take its +breath," whatever dreadful thing that might be. She was a thankful girl +when at last she reached harbour at Ingleside. + +Rilla carried the soup tureen to the kitchen, and set it on the table +under Susan's eyes. Susan looked into the tureen and for once in her +life was so completely floored that she had not a word to say. + +"What in the world is this?" asked the doctor, coming in. + +Rilla poured out her story. "I just had to bring it, father," she +concluded. "I couldn't leave it there." + +"What are you going to do with it?" asked the doctor coolly. + +Rilla hadn't exactly expected this kind of question. + +"We--we can keep it here for awhile--can't we--until something can be +arranged?" she stammered confusedly. + +Dr. Blythe walked up and down the kitchen for a moment or two while the +baby stared at the white walls of the soup tureen and Susan showed +signs of returning animation. + +Presently the doctor confronted Rilla. + +"A young baby means a great deal of additional work and trouble in a +household, Rilla. Nan and Di are leaving for Redmond next week and +neither your mother nor Susan is able to assume so much extra care +under present conditions. If you want to keep that baby here you must +attend to it yourself." + +"Me!" Rilla was dismayed into being ungrammatical. "Why--father--I--I +couldn't!" + +"Younger girls than you have had to look after babies. My advice and +Susan's is at your disposal. If you cannot, then the baby must go back +to Meg Conover. Its lease of life will be short if it does for it is +evident that it is a delicate child and requires particular care. I +doubt if it would survive even if sent to an orphans' home. But I +cannot have your mother and Susan over-taxed." + +The doctor walked out of the kitchen, looking very stern and immovable. +In his heart he knew quite well that the small inhabitant of the big +soup tureen would remain at Ingleside, but he meant to see if Rilla +could not be induced to rise to the occasion. + +Rilla sat looking blankly at the baby. It was absurd to think she could +take care of it. But--that poor little, frail, dead mother who had +worried about it--that dreadful old Meg Conover. + +"Susan, what must be done for a baby?" she asked dolefully. + +"You must keep it warm and dry and wash it every day, and be sure the +water is neither too hot nor too cold, and feed it every two hours. If +it has colic, you put hot things on its stomach," said Susan, rather +feebly and flatly for her. + +The baby began to cry again. + +"It must be hungry--it has to be fed anyhow," said Rilla desperately. +"Tell me what to get for it, Susan, and I'll get it." + +Under Susan's directions a ration of milk and water was prepared, and a +bottle obtained from the doctor's office. Then Rilla lifted the baby +out of the soup tureen and fed it. She brought down the old basket of +her own infancy from the attic and laid the now sleeping baby in it. +She put the soup tureen away in the pantry. Then she sat down to think +things over. + +The result of her thinking things over was that she went to Susan when +the baby woke. + +"I'm going to see what I can do, Susan. I can't let that poor little +thing go back to Mrs. Conover. Tell me how to wash and dress it." + +Under Susan's supervision Rilla bathed the baby. Susan dared not help, +other than by suggestion, for the doctor was in the living-room and +might pop in at any moment. Susan had learned by experience that when +Dr. Blythe put his foot down and said a thing must be, that thing was. +Rilla set her teeth and went ahead. In the name of goodness, how many +wrinkles and kinks did a baby have? Why, there wasn't enough of it to +take hold of. Oh, suppose she let it slip into the water--it was so +wobbly! If it would only stop howling like that! How could such a tiny +morsel make such an enormous noise. Its shrieks could be heard over +Ingleside from cellar to attic. + +"Am I really hurting it much, Susan, do you suppose?" she asked +piteously. + +"No, dearie. Most new babies hate like poison to be washed. You are +real knacky for a beginner. Keep your hand under its back, whatever you +do, and keep cool." + +Keep cool! Rilla was oozing perspiration at every pore. When the baby +was dried and dressed and temporarily quieted with another bottle she +was as limp as a rag. + +"What must I do with it tonight, Susan?" + +A baby by day was dreadful enough; a baby by night was unthinkable. + +"Set the basket on a chair by your bed and keep it covered. You will +have to feed it once or twice in the night, so you would better take +the oil heater upstairs. If you cannot manage it call me and I will go, +doctor or no doctor." + +"But, Susan, if it cries?" + +The baby, however, did not cry. It was surprisingly good--perhaps +because its poor little stomach was filled with proper food. It slept +most of the night but Rilla did not. She was afraid to go to sleep for +fear something would happen to the baby. She prepared its three o'clock +ration with a grim determination that she would not call Susan. Oh, was +she dreaming? Was it really she, Rilla Blythe, who had got into this +absurd predicament? She did not care if the Germans were near +Paris--she did not care if they were in Paris--if only the baby +wouldn't cry or choke or smother or have convulsions. Babies did have +convulsions, didn't they? Oh, why had she forgotten to ask Susan what +she must do if the baby had convulsions? She reflected rather bitterly +that father was very considerate of mother's and Susan's health, but +what about hers? Did he think she could continue to exist if she never +got any sleep? But she was not going to back down now--not she. She +would look after this detestable little animal if it killed her. She +would get a book on baby hygiene and be beholden to nobody. She would +never go to father for advice--she wouldn't bother mother--and she +would only condescend to Susan in dire extremity. They would all see! + +Thus it came about that Mrs. Blythe, when she returned home two nights +later and asked Susan where Rilla was, was electrified by Susan's +composed reply. + +"She's upstairs, Mrs. Dr. dear, putting her baby to bed." + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +RILLA DECIDES + +Families and individuals alike soon become used to new conditions and +accept them unquestioningly. By the time a week had elapsed it seemed +as it the Anderson baby had always been at Ingleside. After the first +three distracted nights Rilla began to sleep again, waking +automatically to attend to her charge on schedule time. She bathed and +fed and dressed it as skilfully as if she had been doing it all her +life. She liked neither her job nor the baby any the better; she still +handled it as gingerly as if it were some kind of a small lizard, and a +breakable lizard at that; but she did her work thoroughly and there was +not a cleaner, better-cared-for infant in Glen St. Mary. She even took +to weighing the creature every day and jotting the result down in her +diary; but sometimes she asked herself pathetically why unkind destiny +had ever led her down the Anderson lane on that fatal day. Shirley, +Nan, and Di did not tease her as much as she had expected. They all +seemed rather stunned by the mere fact of Rilla adopting a war-baby; +perhaps, too, the doctor had issued instructions. Walter, of course, +never had teased her over anything; one day he told her she was a brick. + +"It took more courage for you to tackle that five pounds of new infant, +Rilla-my-Rilla, than it would be for Jem to face a mile of Germans. I +wish I had half your pluck," he said ruefully. + +Rilla was very proud of Walter's approval; nevertheless, she wrote +gloomily in her diary that night:-- + +"I wish I could like the baby a little bit. It would make things +easier. But I don't. I've heard people say that when you took care of a +baby you got fond of it--but you don't--I don't, anyway. And it's a +nuisance--it interferes with everything. It just ties me down--and now +of all times when I'm trying to get the Junior Reds started. And I +couldn't go to Alice Clow's party last night and I was just dying to. +Of course father isn't really unreasonable and I can always get an hour +or two off in the evening when it's necessary; but I knew he wouldn't +stand for my being out half the night and leaving Susan or mother to +see to the baby. I suppose it was just as well, because the thing did +take colic--or something--about one o'clock. It didn't kick or stiffen +out, so I knew that, according to Morgan, it wasn't crying for temper; +and it wasn't hungry and no pins were sticking in it. It screamed till +it was black in the face; I got up and heated water and put the +hot-water bottle on its stomach, and it howled worse than ever and drew +up its poor wee thin legs. I was afraid I had burnt it but I don't +believe I did. Then I walked the floor with it although 'Morgan on +Infants' says that should never be done. I walked miles, and oh, I was +so tired and discouraged and mad--yes, I was. I could have shaken the +creature if it had been big enough to shake, but it wasn't. Father was +out on a case, and mother had had a headache and Susan is squiffy +because when she and Morgan differ I insist upon going by what Morgan +says, so I was determined I wouldn't call her unless I had to. + +"Finally, Miss Oliver came in. She has rooms with Nan now, not me, all +because of the baby, and I am broken-hearted about it. I miss our long +talks after we went to bed, so much. It was the only time I ever had +her to myself. I hated to think the baby's yells had wakened her up, +for she has so much to bear now. Mr. Grant is at Valcartier, too, and +Miss Oliver feels it dreadfully, though she is splendid about it. She +thinks he will never come back and her eyes just break my heart--they +are so tragic. She said it wasn't the baby that woke her--she hadn't +been able to sleep because the Germans are so near Paris; she took the +little wretch and laid it flat on its stomach across her knee and +thumped its back gently a few times, and it stopped shrieking and went +right off to sleep and slept like a lamb the rest of the night. I +didn't--I was too worn out. + +"I'm having a perfectly dreadful time getting the Junior Reds started. +I succeeded in getting Betty Mead as president, and I am secretary, but +they put Jen Vickers in as treasurer and I despise her. She is the sort +of girl who calls any clever, handsome, or distinguished people she +knows slightly by their first names--behind their backs. And she is sly +and two-faced. Una doesn't mind, of course. She is willing to do +anything that comes to hand and never minds whether she has an office +or not. She is just a perfect angel, while I am only angelic in spots +and demonic in other spots. I wish Walter would take a fancy to her, +but he never seems to think about her in that way, although I heard him +say once she was like a tea rose. She is too. And she gets imposed +upon, just because she is so sweet and willing; but I don't allow +people to impose on Rilla Blythe and 'that you may tie to,' as Susan +says. + +"Just as I expected, Olive was determined we should have lunch served +at our meetings. We had a battle royal over it. The majority was +against eats and now the minority is sulking. Irene Howard was on the +eats side and she has been very cool to me ever since and it makes me +feel miserable. I wonder if mother and Mrs. Elliott have problems in +the Senior Society too. I suppose they have, but they just go on calmly +in spite of everything. I go on--but not calmly--I rage and cry--but I +do it all in private and blow off steam in this diary; and when it's +over I vow I'll show them. I never sulk. I detest people who sulk. +Anyhow, we've got the society started and we're to meet once a week, +and we're all going to learn to knit. + +"Shirley and I went down to the station again to try to induce Dog +Monday to come home but we failed. All the family have tried and +failed. Three days after Jem had gone Walter went down and brought +Monday home by main force in the buggy and shut him up for three days. +Then Monday went on a hunger strike and howled like a Banshee night and +day. We had to let him out or he would have starved to death. + +"So we have decided to let him alone and father has arranged with the +butcher near the station to feed him with bones and scraps. Besides, +one of us goes down nearly every day to take him something. He just +lies curled up in the shipping-shed, and every time a train comes in he +will rush over to the platform, wagging his tail expectantly, and tear +around to every one who comes off the train. And then, when the train +goes and he realizes that Jem has not come, he creeps dejectedly back +to his shed, with his disappointed eyes, and lies down patiently to +wait for the next train. Mr. Gray, the station master, says there are +times when he can hardly help crying from sheer sympathy. One day some +boys threw stones at Monday and old Johnny Mead, who never was known to +take notice of anything before, snatched up a meat axe in the butcher's +shop and chased them through the village. Nobody has molested Monday +since. + +"Kenneth Ford has gone back to Toronto. He came up two evenings ago to +say good-bye. I wasn't home--some clothes had to be made for the baby +and Mrs. Meredith offered to help me, so I was over at the manse, and I +didn't see Kenneth. Not that it matters; he told Nan to say good-bye to +Spider for him and tell me not to forget him wholly in my absorbing +maternal duties. If he could leave such a frivolous, insulting message +as that for me it shows plainly that our beautiful hour on the +sandshore meant nothing to him and I am not going to think about him or +it again. + +"Fred Arnold was at the manse and walked home with me. He is the new +Methodist minister's son and very nice and clever, and would be quite +handsome if it were not for his nose. It is a really dreadful nose. +When he talks of commonplace things it does not matter so much, but +when he talks of poetry and ideals the contrast between his nose and +his conversation is too much for me and I want to shriek with laughter. +It is really not fair, because everything he said was perfectly +charming and if somebody like Kenneth had said it I would have been +enraptured. When I listened to him with my eyes cast down I was quite +fascinated; but as soon as I looked up and saw his nose the spell was +broken. He wants to enlist, too, but can't because he is only +seventeen. Mrs. Elliott met us as we were walking through the village +and could not have looked more horrified if she caught me walking with +the Kaiser himself. Mrs. Elliott detests the Methodists and all their +works. Father says it is an obsession with her." + +About 1st September there was an exodus from Ingleside and the manse. +Faith, Nan, Di and Walter left for Redmond; Carl betook himself to his +Harbour Head school and Shirley was off to Queen's. Rilla was left +alone at Ingleside and would have been very lonely if she had had time +to be. She missed Walter keenly; since their talk in Rainbow Valley +they had grown very near together and Rilla discussed problems with +Walter which she never mentioned to others. But she was so busy with +the Junior Reds and her baby that there was rarely a spare minute for +loneliness; sometimes, after she went to bed, she cried a little in her +pillow over Walter's absence and Jem at Valcartier and Kenneth's +unromantic farewell message, but she was generally asleep before the +tears got fairly started. + +"Shall I make arrangements to have the baby sent to Hopetown?" the +doctor asked one day two weeks after the baby's arrival at Ingleside. + +For a moment Rilla was tempted to say "Yes." The baby could be sent to +Hopetown--it would be decently looked after--she could have her free +days and untrammelled nights back again. But--but--that poor young +mother who hadn't wanted it to go to the asylum! Rilla couldn't get +that out of her thoughts. And that very morning she discovered that the +baby had gained eight ounces since its coming to Ingleside. Rilla had +felt such a thrill of pride over this. + +"You--you said it mightn't live if it went to Hopetown," she said. + +"It mightn't. Somehow, institutional care, no matter how good it may +be, doesn't always succeed with delicate babies. But you know what it +means if you want it kept here, Rilla." + +"I've taken care of it for a fortnight--and it has gained half a +pound," cried Rilla. "I think we'd better wait until we hear from its +father anyhow. He mightn't want to have it sent to an orphan asylum, +when he is fighting the battles of his country." + +The doctor and Mrs. Blythe exchanged amused, satisfied smiles behind +Rilla's back; and nothing more was said about Hopetown. + +Then the smile faded from the doctor's face; the Germans were twenty +miles from Paris. Horrible tales were beginning to appear in the papers +of deeds done in martyred Belgium. Life was very tense at Ingleside for +the older people. + +"We eat up the war news," Gertrude Oliver told Mrs. Meredith, trying to +laugh and failing. "We study the maps and nip the whole Hun army in a +few well-directed strategic moves. But Papa Joffre hasn't the benefit +of our advice--and so Paris--must--fall." + +"Will they reach it--will not some mighty hand yet intervene?" murmured +John Meredith. + +"I teach school like one in a dream," continued Gertrude; "then I come +home and shut myself in my room and walk the floor. I am wearing a path +right across Nan's carpet. We are so horribly near this war." + +"Them German men are at Senlis. Nothing nor nobody can save Paris now," +wailed Cousin Sophia. Cousin Sophia had taken to reading the newspapers +and had learned more about the geography of northern France, if not +about the pronunciation of French names, in her seventy-first year than +she had ever known in her schooldays. + +"I have not such a poor opinion of the Almighty, or of Kitchener," said +Susan stubbornly. "I see there is a Bernstoff man in the States who +says that the war is over and Germany has won--and they tell me +Whiskers-on-the-moon says the same thing and is quite pleased about it, +but I could tell them both that it is chancy work counting chickens +even the day before they are hatched, and bears have been known to live +long after their skins were sold." + +"Why ain't the British navy doing more?" persisted Cousin Sophia. + +"Even the British navy cannot sail on dry land, Sophia Crawford. I have +not given up hope, and I shall not, Tomascow and Mobbage and all such +barbarous names to the contrary notwithstanding. Mrs. Dr. dear, can you +tell me if R-h-e-i-m-s is Rimes or Reems or Rames or Rems?" + +"I believe it's really more like 'Rhangs,' Susan." + +"Oh, those French names," groaned Susan. + +"They tell me the Germans has about ruined the church there," sighed +Cousin Sophia. "I always thought the Germans was Christians." + +"A church is bad enough but their doings in Belgium are far worse," +said Susan grimly. "When I heard the doctor reading about them +bayonetting the babies, Mrs. Dr. dear, I just thought, 'Oh, what if it +were our little Jem!' I was stirring the soup when that thought came to +me and I just felt that if I could have lifted that saucepan full of +that boiling soup and thrown it at the Kaiser I would not have lived in +vain." + +"Tomorrow--tomorrow--will bring the news that the Germans are in +Paris," said Gertrude Oliver, through her tense lips. She had one of +those souls that are always tied to the stake, burning in the suffering +of the world around them. Apart from her own personal interest in the +war, she was racked by the thought of Paris falling into the ruthless +hands of the hordes who had burned Louvain and ruined the wonder of +Rheims. + +But on the morrow and the next morrow came the news of the miracle of +the Marne. Rilla rushed madly home from the office waving the +Enterprise with its big red headlines. Susan ran out with trembling +hands to hoist the flag. The doctor stalked about muttering "Thank +God." Mrs. Blythe cried and laughed and cried again. + +"God just put out His hand and touched them--'thus far--no farther'," +said Mr. Meredith that evening. + +Rilla was singing upstairs as she put the baby to bed. Paris was +saved--the war was over--Germany had lost--there would soon be an end +now--Jem and Jerry would be back. The black clouds had rolled by. + +"Don't you dare have colic this joyful night," she told the baby. "If +you do I'll clap you back into your soup tureen and ship you off to +Hopetown--by freight--on the early train. You have got beautiful +eyes--and you're not quite as red and wrinkled as you were--but you +haven't a speck of hair--and your hands are like little claws--and I +don't like you a bit better than I ever did. But I hope your poor +little white mother knows that you're tucked in a soft basket with a +bottle of milk as rich as Morgan allows instead of perishing by inches +with old Meg Conover. And I hope she doesn't know that I nearly drowned +you that first morning when Susan wasn't there and I let you slip right +out of my hands into the water. Why will you be so slippery? No, I +don't like you and I never will but for all that I'm going to make a +decent, upstanding infant of you. You are going to get as fat as a +self-respecting child should be, for one thing. I am not going to have +people saying 'what a puny little thing that baby of Rilla Blythe's is' +as old Mrs. Drew said at the senior Red Cross yesterday. If I can't +love you I mean to be proud of you at least." + + + +CHAPTER IX + +DOC HAS A MISADVENTURE + +"The war will not be over before next spring now," said Dr. Blythe, +when it became apparent that the long battle of the Aisne had resulted +in a stalemate. + +Rilla was murmuring "knit four, purl one" under her breath, and rocking +the baby's cradle with one foot. Morgan disapproved of cradles for +babies but Susan did not, and it was worth while to make some slight +sacrifice of principle to keep Susan in good humour. She laid down her +knitting for a moment and said, "Oh, how can we bear it so long?"--then +picked up her sock and went on. The Rilla of two months before would +have rushed off to Rainbow Valley and cried. + +Miss Oliver sighed and Mrs. Blythe clasped her hands for a moment. Then +Susan said briskly, "Well, we must just gird up our loins and pitch in. +Business as usual is England's motto, they tell me, Mrs. Dr. dear, and +I have taken it for mine, not thinking I could easily find a better. I +shall make the same kind of pudding today I always make on Saturday. It +is a good deal of trouble to make, and that is well, for it will employ +my thoughts. I will remember that Kitchener is at the helm and Joffer +is doing very well for a Frenchman. I shall get that box of cake off to +little Jem and finish that pair of socks today likewise. A sock a day +is my allowance. Old Mrs. Albert Mead of Harbour Head manages a pair +and a half a day but she has nothing to do but knit. You know, Mrs. Dr. +dear, she has been bed-rid for years and she has been worrying terrible +because she was no good to anybody and a dreadful expense, and yet +could not die and be out of the way. And now they tell me she is quite +chirked up and resigned to living because there is something she can +do, and she knits for the soldiers from daylight to dark. Even Cousin +Sophia has taken to knitting, Mrs. Dr. dear, and it is a good thing, +for she cannot think of quite so many doleful speeches to make when her +hands are busy with her needles instead of being folded on her stomach. +She thinks we will all be Germans this time next year but I tell her it +will take more than a year to make a German out of me. Do you know that +Rick MacAllister has enlisted, Mrs. Dr. dear? And they say Joe Milgrave +would too, only he is afraid that if he does that Whiskers-on-the-moon +will not let him have Miranda. Whiskers says that he will believe the +stories of German atrocities when he sees them, and that it is a good +thing that Rangs Cathedral has been destroyed because it was a Roman +Catholic church. Now, I am not a Roman Catholic, Mrs. Dr. dear, being +born and bred a good Presbyterian and meaning to live and die one, but +I maintain that the Catholics have as good a right to their churches as +we have to ours and that the Huns had no kind of business to destroy +them. Just think, Mrs. Dr. dear," concluded Susan pathetically, "how we +would feel if a German shell knocked down the spire of our church here +in the glen, and I'm sure it is every bit as bad to think of Rangs +cathedral being hammered to pieces." + +And, meanwhile, everywhere, the lads of the world rich and poor, low +and high, white and brown, were following the Piper's call. + +"Even Billy Andrews' boy is going--and Jane's only son--and Diana's +little Jack," said Mrs. Blythe. "Priscilla's son has gone from Japan +and Stella's from Vancouver--and both the Rev. Jo's boys. Philippa +writes that her boys 'went right away, not being afflicted with her +indecision.'" + +"Jem says that he thinks they will be leaving very soon now, and that +he will not be able to get leave to come so far before they go, as they +will have to start at a few hours' notice," said the doctor, passing +the letter to his wife. + +"That is not fair," said Susan indignantly. "Has Sir Sam Hughes no +regard for our feelings? The idea of whisking that blessed boy away to +Europe without letting us even have a last glimpse of him! If I were +you, doctor dear, I would write to the papers about it." + +"Perhaps it is as well," said the disappointed mother. "I don't believe +I could bear another parting from him--now that I know the war will not +be over as soon as we hoped when he left first. Oh, if only--but no, I +won't say it! Like Susan and Rilla," concluded Mrs. Blythe, achieving a +laugh, "I am determined to be a heroine." + +"You're all good stuff," said the doctor, "I'm proud of my women folk. +Even Rilla here, my 'lily of the field,' is running a Red Cross Society +full blast and saving a little life for Canada. That's a good piece of +work. Rilla, daughter of Anne, what are you going to call your +war-baby?" + +"I'm waiting to hear from Jim Anderson," said Rilla. "He may want to +name his own child." + +But as the autumn weeks went by no word came from Jim Anderson, who had +never been heard from since he sailed from Halifax, and to whom the +fate of wife and child seemed a matter of indifference. Eventually +Rilla decided to call the baby James, and Susan opined that Kitchener +should be added thereto. So James Kitchener Anderson became the +possessor of a name somewhat more imposing than himself. The Ingleside +family promptly shortened it to Jims, but Susan obstinately called him +"Little Kitchener" and nothing else. + +"Jims is no name for a Christian child, Mrs. Dr. dear," she said +disapprovingly. "Cousin Sophia says it is too flippant, and for once I +consider she utters sense, though I would not please her by openly +agreeing with her. As for the child, he is beginning to look something +like a baby, and I must admit that Rilla is wonderful with him, though +I would not pamper pride by saying so to her face. Mrs. Dr. dear, I +shall never, no never, forget the first sight I had of that infant, +lying in that big soup tureen, rolled up in dirty flannel. It is not +often that Susan Baker is flabbergasted, but flabbergasted I was then, +and that you may tie to. For one awful moment I thought my mind had +given way and that I was seeing visions. Then thinks I, 'No, I never +heard of anyone having a vision of a soup tureen, so it must be real at +least,' and I plucked up confidence. When I heard the doctor tell Rilla +that she must take care of the baby I thought he was joking, for I did +not believe for a minute she would or could do it. But you see what has +happened and it is making a woman of her. When we have to do a thing, +Mrs. Dr. dear, we can do it." + +Susan added another proof to this concluding dictum of hers one day in +October. The doctor and his wife were away. Rilla was presiding over +Jims' afternoon siesta upstairs, purling four and knitting one with +ceaseless vim. Susan was seated on the back veranda, shelling beans, +and Cousin Sophia was helping her. Peace and tranquility brooded over +the Glen; the sky was fleeced over with silvery, shining clouds. +Rainbow Valley lay in a soft, autumnal haze of fairy purple. The maple +grove was a burning bush of colour and the hedge of sweet-briar around +the kitchen yard was a thing of wonder in its subtle tintings. It did +not seem that strife could be in the world, and Susan's faithful heart +was lulled into a brief forgetfulness, although she had lain awake most +of the preceding night thinking of little Jem far out on the Atlantic, +where the great fleet was carrying Canada's first army across the +ocean. Even Cousin Sophia looked less melancholy than usual and +admitted that there was not much fault to be found in the day, although +there was no doubt it was a weather-breeder and there would be an awful +storm on its heels. + +"Things is too calm to last," she said. + +As if in confirmation of her assertion, a most unearthly din suddenly +arose behind them. It was quite impossible to describe the confused +medley of bangs and rattles and muffled shrieks and yowls that +proceeded from the kitchen, accompanied by occasional crashes. Susan +and Cousin Sophia stared at each other in dismay. + +"What upon airth has bruk loose in there?" gasped Cousin Sophia. + +"It must be that Hyde-cat gone clean mad at last," muttered Susan. "I +have always expected it." + +Rilla came flying out of the side door of the living-room. + +"What has happened?" she demanded. + +"It is beyond me to say, but that possessed beast of yours is evidently +at the bottom of it," said Susan. "Do not go near him, at least. I will +open the door and peep in. There goes some more of the crockery. I have +always said that the devil was in him and that I will tie to." + +"It is my opinion that the cat has hydrophobia," said Cousin Sophia +solemnly. "I once heard of a cat that went mad and bit three +people--and they all died a most terrible death, and turned black as +ink." + +Undismayed by this, Susan opened the door and looked in. The floor was +littered with fragments of broken dishes, for it seemed that the fatal +tragedy had taken place on the long dresser where Susan's array of +cooking bowls had been marshalled in shining state. Around the kitchen +tore a frantic cat, with his head wedged tightly in an old salmon can. +Blindly he careered about with shrieks and profanity commingled, now +banging the can madly against anything he encountered, now trying +vainly to wrench it off with his paws. + +The sight was so funny that Rilla doubled up with laughter. Susan +looked at her reproachfully. + +"I see nothing to laugh at. That beast has broken your ma's big blue +mixing-bowl that she brought from Green Gables when she was married. +That is no small calamity, in my opinion. But the thing to consider now +is how to get that can off Hyde's head." + +"Don't you dast go touching it," exclaimed Cousin Sophia, galvanized +into animation. "It might be your death. Shut the kitchen up and send +for Albert." + +"I am not in the habit of sending for Albert during family +difficulties," said Susan loftily. "That beast is in torment, and +whatever my opinion of him may be, I cannot endure to see him suffering +pain. You keep away, Rilla, for little Kitchener's sake, and I will see +what I can do." + +Susan stalked undauntedly into the kitchen, seized an old storm coat of +the doctor's and after a wild pursuit and several fruitless dashes and +pounces, managed to throw it over the cat and can. Then she proceeded +to saw the can loose with a can-opener, while Rilla held the squirming +animal, rolled in the coat. Anything like Doc's shrieks while the +process was going on was never heard at Ingleside. Susan was in mortal +dread that the Albert Crawfords would hear it and conclude she was +torturing the creature to death. Doc was a wrathful and indignant cat +when he was freed. Evidently he thought the whole thing was a put-up +job to bring him low. He gave Susan a baleful glance by way of +gratitude and rushed out of the kitchen to take sanctuary in the jungle +of the sweet-briar hedge, where he sulked for the rest of the day. +Susan swept up her broken dishes grimly. + +"The Huns themselves couldn't have worked more havoc here," she said +bitterly. "But when people will keep a Satanic animal like that, in +spite of all warnings, they cannot complain when their wedding bowls +get broken. Things have come to a pretty pass when an honest woman +cannot leave her kitchen for a few minutes without a fiend of a cat +rampaging through it with his head in a salmon can." + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE TROUBLES OF RILLA + +October passed out and the dreary days of November and December dragged +by. The world shook with the thunder of contending armies; Antwerp +fell--Turkey declared war--gallant little Serbia gathered herself +together and struck a deadly blow at her oppressor; and in quiet, +hill-girdled Glen St. Mary, thousands of miles away, hearts beat with +hope and fear over the varying dispatches from day to day. + +"A few months ago," said Miss Oliver, "we thought and talked in terms +of Glen St. Mary. Now, we think and talk in terms of military tactics +and diplomatic intrigue." + +There was just one great event every day--the coming of the mail. Even +Susan admitted that from the time the mail-courier's buggy rumbled over +the little bridge between the station and the village until the papers +were brought home and read, she could not work properly. + +"I must take up my knitting then and knit hard till the papers come, +Mrs. Dr. dear. Knitting is something you can do, even when your heart +is going like a trip-hammer and the pit of your stomach feels all gone +and your thoughts are catawampus. Then when I see the headlines, be +they good or be they bad, I calm down and am able to go about my +business again. It is an unfortunate thing that the mail comes in just +when our dinner rush is on, and I think the Government could arrange +things better. But the drive on Calais has failed, as I felt perfectly +sure it would, and the Kaiser will not eat his Christmas dinner in +London this year. Do you know, Mrs. Dr. dear,"--Susan's voice lowered +as a token that she was going to impart a very shocking piece of +information,--"I have been told on good authority--or else you may be +sure I would not be repeating it when it concerns a minster--that the +Rev. Mr. Arnold goes to Charlottetown every week and takes a Turkish +bath for his rheumatism. The idea of him doing that when we are at war +with Turkey? One of his own deacons has always insisted that Mr. +Arnold's theology was not sound and I am beginning to believe that +there is some reason to fear it. Well, I must bestir myself this +afternoon and get little Jem's Christmas cake packed up for him. He +will enjoy it, if the blessed boy is not drowned in mud before that +time." + +Jem was in camp on Salisbury Plain and was writing gay, cheery letters +home in spite of the mud. Walter was at Redmond and his letters to +Rilla were anything but cheerful. She never opened one without a dread +tugging at her heart that it would tell her he had enlisted. His +unhappiness made her unhappy. She wanted to put her arm round him and +comfort him, as she had done that day in Rainbow Valley. She hated +everybody who was responsible for Walter's unhappiness. + +"He will go yet," she murmured miserably to herself one afternoon, as +she sat alone in Rainbow Valley, reading a letter from him, "he will go +yet--and if he does I just can't bear it." + +Walter wrote that some one had sent him an envelope containing a white +feather. + +"I deserved it, Rilla. I felt that I ought to put it on and wear +it--proclaiming myself to all Redmond the coward I know I am. The boys +of my year are going--going. Every day two or three of them join up. +Some days I almost make up my mind to do it--and then I see myself +thrusting a bayonet through another man--some woman's husband or +sweetheart or son--perhaps the father of little children--I see myself +lying alone torn and mangled, burning with thirst on a cold, wet field, +surrounded by dead and dying men--and I know I never can. I can't face +even the thought of it. How could I face the reality? There are times +when I wish I had never been born. Life has always seemed such a +beautiful thing to me--and now it is a hideous thing. Rilla-my-Rilla, +if it weren't for your letters--your dear, bright, merry, funny, +comical, believing letters--I think I'd give up. And Una's! Una is +really a little brick, isn't she? There's a wonderful fineness and +firmness under all that shy, wistful girlishness of her. She hasn't +your knack of writing laugh-provoking epistles, but there's something +in her letters--I don't know what--that makes me feel at least while +I'm reading them, that I could even go to the front. Not that she ever +says a word about my going--or hints that I ought to go--she isn't that +kind. It's just the spirit of them--the personality that is in them. +Well, I can't go. You have a brother and Una has a friend who is a +coward." + +"Oh, I wish Walter wouldn't write such things," sighed Rilla. "It hurts +me. He isn't a coward--he isn't--he isn't!" + +She looked wistfully about her--at the little woodland valley and the +grey, lonely fallows beyond. How everything reminded her of Walter! The +red leaves still clung to the wild sweet-briars that overhung a curve +of the brook; their stems were gemmed with the pearls of the gentle +rain that had fallen a little while before. Walter had once written a +poem describing them. The wind was sighing and rustling among the +frosted brown bracken ferns, then lessening sorrowfully away down the +brook. Walter had said once that he loved the melancholy of the autumn +wind on a November day. The old Tree Lovers still clasped each other in +a faithful embrace, and the White Lady, now a great white-branched +tree, stood out beautifully fine, against the grey velvet sky. Walter +had named them long ago; and last November, when he had walked with her +and Miss Oliver in the Valley, he had said, looking at the leafless +Lady, with a young silver moon hanging over her, "A white birch is a +beautiful Pagan maiden who has never lost the Eden secret of being +naked and unashamed." Miss Oliver had said, "Put that into a poem, +Walter," and he had done so, and read it to them the next day--just a +short thing with goblin imagination in every line of it. Oh, how happy +they had been then! + +Well--Rilla scrambled to her feet--time was up. Jims would soon be +awake--his lunch had to be prepared--his little slips had to be +ironed--there was a committee meeting of the Junior Reds that +night--there was her new knitting bag to finish--it would be the +handsomest bag in the Junior Society--handsomer even than Irene +Howard's--she must get home and get to work. She was busy these days +from morning till night. That little monkey of a Jims took so much +time. But he was growing--he was certainly growing. And there were +times when Rilla felt sure that it was not merely a pious hope but an +absolute fact that he was getting decidedly better looking. Sometimes +she felt quite proud of him; and sometimes she yearned to spank him. +But she never kissed him or wanted to kiss him. + +"The Germans captured Lodz today," said Miss Oliver, one December +evening, when she, Mrs. Blythe, and Susan were busy sewing or knitting +in the cosy living-room. "This war is at least extending my knowledge +of geography. Schoolma'am though I am, three months ago I didn't know +there was such a place in the world such as Lodz. Had I heard it +mentioned I would have known nothing about it and cared as little. I +know all about it now--its size, its standing, its military +significance. Yesterday the news that the Germans have captured it in +their second rush to Warsaw made my heart sink into my boots. I woke up +in the night and worried over it. I don't wonder babies always cry when +they wake up in the night. Everything presses on my soul then and no +cloud has a silver lining." + +"When I wake up in the night and cannot go to sleep again," remarked +Susan, who was knitting and reading at the same time, "I pass the +moments by torturing the Kaiser to death. Last night I fried him in +boiling oil and a great comfort it was to me, remembering those Belgian +babies." + +"If the Kaiser were here and had a pain in his shoulder you'd be the +first to run for the liniment bottle to rub him down," laughed Miss +Oliver. + +"Would I?" cried outraged Susan. "Would I, Miss Oliver? I would rub him +down with coal oil, Miss Oliver--and leave it to blister. That is what +I would do and that you may tie to. A pain in his shoulder, indeed! He +will have pains all over him before he is through with what he has +started." + +"We are told to love our enemies, Susan," said the doctor solemnly. + +"Yes, our enemies, but not King George's enemies, doctor dear," +retorted Susan crushingly. She was so well pleased with herself over +this flattening out of the doctor completely that she even smiled as +she polished her glasses. Susan had never given in to glasses before, +but she had done so at last in order to be able to read the war +news--and not a dispatch got by her. "Can you tell me, Miss Oliver, how +to pronounce M-l-a-w-a and B-z-u-r-a and P-r-z-e-m-y-s-l?" + +"That last is a conundrum which nobody seems to have solved yet, Susan. +And I can make only a guess at the others." + +"These foreign names are far from being decent, in my opinion," said +disgusted Susan. + +"I dare say the Austrians and Russians would think Saskatchewan and +Musquodoboit about as bad, Susan," said Miss Oliver. "The Serbians have +done wonderfully of late. They have captured Belgrade." + +"And sent the Austrian creatures packing across the Danube with a flea +in their ear," said Susan with a relish, as she settled down to examine +a map of Eastern Europe, prodding each locality with the knitting +needle to brand it on her memory. "Cousin Sophia said awhile ago that +Serbia was done for, but I told her there was still such a thing as an +over-ruling Providence, doubt it who might. It says here that the +slaughter was terrible. For all they were foreigners it is awful to +think of so many men being killed, Mrs. Dr. dear--for they are scarce +enough as it is." + +Rilla was upstairs relieving her over-charged feelings by writing in +her diary. + +"Things have all 'gone catawampus,' as Susan says, with me this week. +Part of it was my own fault and part of it wasn't, and I seem to be +equally unhappy over both parts. + +"I went to town the other day to buy a new winter hat. It was the first +time nobody insisted on coming with me to help me select it, and I felt +that mother had really given up thinking of me as a child. And I found +the dearest hat--it was simply bewitching. It was a velvet hat, of the +very shade of rich green that was made for me. It just goes with my +hair and complexion beautifully, bringing out the red-brown shades and +what Miss Oliver calls my 'creaminess' so well. Only once before in my +life have I come across that precise shade of green. When I was twelve +I had a little beaver hat of it, and all the girls in school were wild +over it. Well, as soon as I saw this hat I felt that I simply must have +it--and have it I did. The price was dreadful. I will not put it down +here because I don't want my descendants to know I was guilty of paying +so much for a hat, in war-time, too, when everybody is--or should +be--trying to be economical. + +"When I got home and tried on the hat again in my room I was assailed +by qualms. Of course, it was very becoming; but somehow it seemed too +elaborate and fussy for church going and our quiet little doings in the +Glen--too conspicuous, in short. It hadn't seemed so at the milliner's +but here in my little white room it did. And that dreadful price tag! +And the starving Belgians! When mother saw the hat and the tag she just +looked at me. Mother is some expert at looking. Father says she looked +him into love with her years ago in Avonlea school and I can well +believe it--though I have heard a weird tale of her banging him over +the head with a slate at the very beginning of their acquaintance. +Mother was a limb when she was a little girl, I understand, and even up +to the time when Jem went away she was full of ginger. But let me +return to my mutton--that is to say, my new green velvet hat. + +"'Do you think, Rilla,' mother said quietly--far too quietly--'that it +was right to spend so much for a hat, especially when the need of the +world is so great?' + +"'I paid for it out of my own allowance, mother,' I exclaimed. + +"'That is not the point. Your allowance is based on the principle of a +reasonable amount for each thing you need. If you pay too much for one +thing you must cut off somewhere else and that is not satisfactory. But +if you think you did right, Rilla, I have no more to say. I leave it to +your conscience.' + +"I wish mother would not leave things to my conscience! And anyway, +what was I to do? I couldn't take that hat back--I had worn it to a +concert in town--I had to keep it! I was so uncomfortable that I flew +into a temper--a cold, calm, deadly temper. + +"'Mother,' I said haughtily, 'I am sorry you disapprove of my hat--' + +"'Not of the hat exactly,' said mother, 'though I consider it in +doubtful taste for so young a girl--but of the price you paid for it.' + +"Being interrupted didn't improve my temper, so I went on, colder and +calmer and deadlier than ever, just as if mother had not spoken. + +"'--but I have to keep it now. However, I promise you that I will not +get another hat for three years or for the duration of the war, if it +lasts longer than that. Even you'--oh, the sarcasm I put into the +'you'--'cannot say that what I paid was too much when spread over at +least three years.' + +"'You will be very tired of that hat before three years, Rilla,' said +mother, with a provoking grin, which, being interpreted, meant that I +wouldn't stick it out. + +"'Tired or not, I will wear it that long,' I said: and then I marched +upstairs and cried to think that I had been sarcastic to mother. + +"I hate that hat already. But three years or the duration of the war, I +said, and three years or the duration of the war it shall be. I vowed +and I shall keep my vow, cost what it will. + +"That is one of the 'catawampus' things. The other is that I have +quarrelled with Irene Howard--or she quarrelled with me--or, no, we +both quarrelled. + +"The Junior Red Cross met here yesterday. The hour of meeting was +half-past two but Irene came at half-past one, because she got the +chance of a drive down from the Upper Glen. Irene hasn't been a bit +nice to me since the fuss about the eats; and besides I feel sure she +resents not being president. But I have been determined that things +should go smoothly, so I have never taken any notice, and when she came +yesterday she seemed so nice and sweet again that I hoped she had got +over her huffiness and we could be the chums we used to be. + +"But as soon as we sat down Irene began to rub me the wrong way. I saw +her cast a look at my new knitting-bag. All the girls have always said +Irene was jealous-minded and I would never believe them before. But now +I feel that perhaps she is. + +"The first thing she did was to pounce on Jims--Irene pretends to adore +babies--pick him out of his cradle and kiss him all over his face. Now, +Irene knows perfectly well that I don't like to have Jims kissed like +that. It is not hygienic. After she had worried him till he began to +fuss, she looked at me and gave quite a nasty little laugh but she +said, oh, so sweetly, + +"'Why, Rilla, darling, you look as if you thought I was poisoning the +baby.' + +"'Oh, no, I don't, Irene,' I said--every bit as sweetly, 'but you know +Morgan says that the only place a baby should be kissed is on its +forehead, for fear of germs, and that is my rule with Jims.' + +"'Dear me, am I so full of germs?' said Irene plaintively. I knew she +was making fun of me and I began to boil inside--but outside no sign of +a simmer. I was determined I would not scrap with Irene. + +"Then she began to bounce Jims. Now, Morgan says bouncing is almost the +worst thing that can be done to a baby. I never allow Jims to be +bounced. But Irene bounced him and that exasperating child liked it. He +smiled--for the very first time. He is four months old and he has never +smiled once before. Not even mother or Susan have been able to coax +that thing to smile, try as they would. And here he was smiling because +Irene Howard bounced him! Talk of gratitude! + +"I admit that smile made a big difference in him. Two of the dearest +dimples came out in his cheeks and his big brown eyes seemed full of +laughter. The way Irene raved over those dimples was silly, I consider. +You would have supposed she thought she had really brought them into +existence. But I sewed steadily and did not enthuse, and soon Irene got +tired of bouncing Jims and put him back in his cradle. He did not like +that after being played with, and he began to cry and was fussy the +rest of the afternoon, whereas if Irene had only left him alone he +would not have been a bit of trouble. + +"Irene looked at him and said, 'Does he often cry like that?' as if she +had never heard a baby crying before. + +"I explained patiently that children have to cry so many minutes per +day in order to expand their lungs. Morgan says so. + +"'If Jims didn't cry at all I'd have to make him cry for at least +twenty minutes,' I said. + +"'Oh, indeed!' said Irene, laughing as if she didn't believe me. +'Morgan on the Care of Infants' was upstairs or I would soon have +convinced her. Then she said Jims didn't have much hair--she had never +seen a four months' old baby so bald. + +"Of course, I knew Jims hadn't much hair--yet; but Irene said it in a +tone that seemed to imply it was my fault that he hadn't any hair. I +said I had seen dozens of babies every bit as bald as Jims, and Irene +said, Oh very well, she hadn't meant to offend me--when I wasn't +offended. + +"It went on like that the rest of the hour--Irene kept giving me little +digs all the time. The girls have always said she was revengeful like +that if she were peeved about anything; but I never believed it before; +I used to think Irene just perfect, and it hurt me dreadfully to find +she could stoop to this. But I corked up my feelings and sewed away for +dear life on a Belgian child's nightgown. + +"Then Irene told me the meanest, most contemptible thing that someone +had said about Walter. I won't write it down--I can't. Of course, she +said it made her furious to hear it and all that--but there was no need +for her to tell me such a thing even if she did hear it. She simply did +it to hurt me. + +"I just exploded. 'How dare you come here and repeat such a thing about +my brother, Irene Howard?' I exclaimed. 'I shall never forgive +you--never. Your brother hasn't enlisted--hasn't any idea of enlisting.' + +"'Why Rilla, dear, I didn't say it,' said Irene. 'I told you it was +Mrs. George Burr. And I told her--' + +"'I don't want to hear what you told her. Don't you ever speak to me +again, Irene Howard.' + +"Oh course, I shouldn't have said that. But it just seemed to say +itself. Then the other girls all came in a bunch and I had to calm down +and act the hostess' part as well as I could. Irene paired off with +Olive Kirk all the rest of the afternoon and went away without so much +as a look. So I suppose she means to take me at my word and I don't +care, for I do not want to be friends with a girl who could repeat such +a falsehood about Walter. But I feel unhappy over it for all that. +We've always been such good chums and until lately Irene was lovely to +me; and now another illusion has been stripped from my eyes and I feel +as if there wasn't such a thing as real true friendship in the world. + +"Father got old Joe Mead to build a kennel for Dog Monday in the corner +of the shipping-shed today. We thought perhaps Monday would come home +when the cold weather came but he wouldn't. No earthly influence can +coax Monday away from that shed even for a few minutes. There he stays +and meets every train. So we had to do something to make him +comfortable. Joe built the kennel so that Monday could lie in it and +still see the platform, so we hope he will occupy it. + +"Monday has become quite famous. A reporter of the Enterprise came out +from town and photographed him and wrote up the whole story of his +faithful vigil. It was published in the Enterprise and copied all over +Canada. But that doesn't matter to poor little Monday, Jem has gone +away--Monday doesn't know where or why--but he will wait until he comes +back. Somehow it comforts me: it's foolish, I suppose, but it gives me +a feeling that Jem will come back or else Monday wouldn't keep on +waiting for him. + +"Jims is snoring beside me in his cradle. It is just a cold that makes +him snore--not adenoids. Irene had a cold yesterday and I know she gave +it to him, kissing him. He is not quite such a nuisance as he was; he +has got some backbone and can sit up quite nicely, and he loves his +bath now and splashes unsmilingly in the water instead of twisting and +shrieking. Oh, shall I ever forget those first two months! I don't know +how I lived through them. But here I am and here is Jims and we both +are going to 'carry on.' I tickled him a little bit tonight when I +undressed him--I wouldn't bounce him but Morgan doesn't mention +tickling--just to see if he would smile for me as well as Irene. And he +did--and out popped the dimples. What a pity his mother couldn't have +seen them! + +"I finished my sixth pair of socks today. With the first three I got +Susan to set the heel for me. Then I thought that was a bit of +shirking, so I learned to do it myself. I hate it--but I have done so +many things I hate since 4th of August that one more or less doesn't +matter. I just think of Jem joking about the mud on Salisbury Plain and +I go at them." + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DARK AND BRIGHT + +At Christmas the college boys and girls came home and for a little +while Ingleside was gay again. But all were not there--for the first +time one was missing from the circle round the Christmas table. Jem, of +the steady lips and fearless eyes, was far away, and Rilla felt that +the sight of his vacant chair was more than she could endure. Susan had +taken a stubborn freak and insisted on setting out Jem's place for him +as usual, with the twisted little napkin ring he had always had since a +boy, and the odd, high Green Gables goblet that Aunt Marilla had once +given him and from which he always insisted on drinking. + +"That blessed boy shall have his place, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan +firmly, "and do not you feel over it, for you may be sure he is here in +spirit and next Christmas he will be here in the body. Wait you till +the Big Push comes in the spring and the war will be over in a jiffy." + +They tried to think so, but a shadow stalked in the background of their +determined merrymaking. Walter, too, was quiet and dull, all through +the holidays. He showed Rilla a cruel, anonymous letter he had received +at Redmond--a letter far more conspicuous for malice than for patriotic +indignation. + +"Nevertheless, all it says is true, Rilla." + +Rilla had caught it from him and thrown it into the fire. + +"There isn't one word of truth in it," she declared hotly. "Walter, +you've got morbid--as Miss Oliver says she gets when she broods too +long over one thing." + +"I can't get away from it at Redmond, Rilla. The whole college is +aflame over the war. A perfectly fit fellow, of military age, who +doesn't join up is looked upon as a shirker and treated accordingly. +Dr. Milne, the English professor, who has always made a special pet of +me, has two sons in khaki; and I can feel the change in his manner +towards me." + +"It's not fair--you're not fit." + +"Physically I am. Sound as a bell. The unfitness is in the soul and +it's a taint and a disgrace. There, don't cry, Rilla. I'm not going if +that's what you're afraid of. The Piper's music rings in my ears day +and night--but I cannot follow." + +"You would break mother's heart and mine if you did," sobbed Rilla. +"Oh, Walter, one is enough for any family." + +The holidays were an unhappy time for her. Still, having Nan and Di and +Walter and Shirley home helped in the enduring of things. A letter and +book came for her from Kenneth Ford, too; some sentences in the letter +made her cheeks burn and her heart beat--until the last paragraph, +which sent an icy chill over everything. + +"My ankle is about as good as new. I'll be fit to join up in a couple +of months more, Rilla-my-Rilla. It will be some feeling to get into +khaki all right. Little Ken will be able to look the whole world in the +face then and owe not any man. It's been rotten lately, since I've been +able to walk without limping. People who don't know look at me as much +as to say 'Slacker!' Well, they won't have the chance to look it much +longer." + +"I hate this war," said Rilla bitterly, as she gazed out into the maple +grove that was a chill glory of pink and gold in the winter sunset. + +"Nineteen-fourteen has gone," said Dr. Blythe on New Year's Day. "Its +sun, which rose fairly, has set in blood. What will nineteen-fifteen +bring?" + +"Victory!" said Susan, for once laconic. + +"Do you really believe we'll win the war, Susan?" said Miss Oliver +drearily. She had come over from Lowbridge to spend the day and see +Walter and the girls before they went back to Redmond. She was in a +rather blue and cynical mood and inclined to look on the dark side. + +"'Believe' we'll win the war!" exclaimed Susan. "No, Miss Oliver, dear, +I do not believe--I know. That does not worry me. What does worry me is +the trouble and expense of it all. But then you cannot make omelets +without breaking eggs, so we must just trust in God and make big guns." + +"Sometimes I think the big guns are better to trust in than God," said +Miss Oliver defiantly. + +"No, no, dear, you do not. The Germans had the big guns at the Marne, +had they not? But Providence settled them. Do not ever forget that. +Just hold on to that when you feel inclined to doubt. Clutch hold of +the sides of your chair and sit tight and keep saying, 'Big guns are +good but the Almighty is better, and He is on our side, no matter what +the Kaiser says about it.' I would have gone crazy many a day lately, +Miss Oliver, dear, if I had not sat tight and repeated that to myself. +My cousin Sophia is, like you, somewhat inclined to despond. 'Oh, dear +me, what will we do if the Germans ever get here,' she wailed to me +yesterday. 'Bury them,' said I, just as off-hand as that. 'There is +plenty of room for the graves.' Cousin Sophia said that I was flippant +but I was not flippant, Miss Oliver, dear, only calm and confident in +the British navy and our Canadian boys. I am like old Mr. William +Pollock of the Harbour Head. He is very old and has been ill for a long +time, and one night last week he was so low that his daughter-in-law +whispered to some one that she thought he was dead. 'Darn it, I ain't,' +he called right out--only, Miss Oliver, dear, he did not use so mild a +word as 'darn'--'darn it, I ain't, and I don't mean to die until the +Kaiser is well licked.' Now, that, Miss Oliver, dear," concluded Susan, +"is the kind of spirit I admire." + +"I admire it but I can't emulate it," sighed Gertrude. "Before this, I +have always been able to escape from the hard things of life for a +little while by going into dreamland, and coming back like a giant +refreshed. But I can't escape from this." + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Blythe. "I hate going to bed now. All my life I've +liked going to bed, to have a gay, mad, splendid half-hour of imagining +things before sleeping. Now I imagine them still. But such different +things." + +"I am rather glad when the time comes to go to bed," said Miss Oliver. +"I like the darkness because I can be myself in it--I needn't smile or +talk bravely. But sometimes my imagination gets out of hand, too, and I +see what you do--terrible things--terrible years to come." + +"I am very thankful that I never had any imagination to speak of," said +Susan. "I have been spared that. I see by this paper that the Crown +Prince is killed again. Do you suppose there is any hope of his staying +dead this time? And I also see that Woodrow Wilson is going to write +another note. I wonder," concluded Susan, with the bitter irony she had +of late begun to use when referring to the poor President, "if that +man's schoolmaster is alive." + +In January Jims was five months old and Rilla celebrated the +anniversary by shortening him. + +"He weighs fourteen pounds," she announced jubilantly. "Just exactly +what he should weigh at five months, according to Morgan." + +There was no longer any doubt in anybody's mind that Jims was getting +positively pretty. His little cheeks were round and firm and faintly +pink, his eyes were big and bright, his tiny paws had dimples at the +root of every finger. He had even begun to grow hair, much to Rilla's +unspoken relief. There was a pale golden fuzz all over his head that +was distinctly visible in some lights. He was a good infant, generally +sleeping and digesting as Morgan decreed. Occasionally he smiled but he +had never laughed, in spite of all efforts to make him. This worried +Rilla also, because Morgan said that babies usually laughed aloud from +the third to the fifth month. Jims was five months and had no notion of +laughing. Why hadn't he? Wasn't he normal? + +One night Rilla came home late from a recruiting meeting at the Glen +where she had been giving patriotic recitations. Rilla had never been +willing to recite in public before. She was afraid of her tendency to +lisp, which had a habit of reviving if she were doing anything that +made her nervous. When she had first been asked to recite at the Upper +Glen meeting she had refused. Then she began to worry over her refusal. +Was it cowardly? What would Jem think if he knew? After two days of +worry Rilla phoned to the president of the Patriotic Society that she +would recite. She did, and lisped several times, and lay awake most of +the night in an agony of wounded vanity. Then two nights after she +recited again at Harbour Head. She had been at Lowbridge and +over-harbour since then and had become resigned to an occasional lisp. +Nobody except herself seemed to mind it. And she was so earnest and +appealing and shining-eyed! More than one recruit joined up because +Rilla's eyes seemed to look right at him when she passionately demanded +how could men die better than fighting for the ashes of their fathers +and the temples of their gods, or assured her audience with thrilling +intensity that one crowded hour of glorious life was worth an age +without a name. Even stolid Miller Douglas was so fired one night that +it took Mary Vance a good hour to talk him back to sense. Mary Vance +said bitterly that if Rilla Blythe felt as bad as she had pretended to +feel over Jem's going to the front she wouldn't be urging other girls' +brothers and friends to go. + +On this particular night Rilla was tired and cold and very thankful to +creep into her warm nest and cuddle down between her blankets, though +as usual with a sorrowful wonder how Jem and Jerry were faring. She was +just getting warm and drowsy when Jims suddenly began to cry--and kept +on crying. + +Rilla curled herself up in her bed and determined she would let him +cry. She had Morgan behind her for justification. Jims was warm, +physically comfortable--his cry wasn't the cry of pain--and had his +little tummy as full as was good for him. Under such circumstances it +would be simply spoiling him to fuss over him, and she wasn't going to +do it. He could cry until he got good and tired and ready to go to +sleep again. + +Then Rilla's imagination began to torment her. Suppose, she thought, I +was a tiny, helpless creature only five months old, with my father +somewhere in France and my poor little mother, who had been so worried +about me, in the graveyard. Suppose I was lying in a basket in a big, +black room, without one speck of light, and nobody within miles of me, +for all I could see or know. Suppose there wasn't a human being +anywhere who loved me--for a father who had never seen me couldn't love +me very much, especially when he had never written a word to or about +me. Wouldn't I cry, too? Wouldn't I feel just so lonely and forsaken +and frightened that I'd have to cry? + +Rilla hopped out. She picked Jims out of his basket and took him into +her own bed. His hands were cold, poor mite. But he had promptly ceased +to cry. And then, as she held him close to her in the darkness, +suddenly Jims laughed--a real, gurgly, chuckly, delighted, delightful +laugh. + +"Oh, you dear little thing!" exclaimed Rilla. "Are you so pleased at +finding you're not all alone, lost in a huge, big, black room?" Then +she knew she wanted to kiss him and she did. She kissed his silky, +scented little head, she kissed his chubby little cheek, she kissed his +little cold hands. She wanted to squeeze him--to cuddle him, just as +she used to squeeze and cuddle her kittens. Something delightful and +yearning and brooding seemed to have taken possession of her. She had +never felt like this before. + +In a few minutes Jims was sound asleep; and, as Rilla listened to his +soft, regular breathing and felt the little body warm and contented +against her, she realized that--at last--she loved her war-baby. + +"He has got to be--such--a--darling," she thought drowsily, as she +drifted off to slumberland herself. + +In February Jem and Jerry and Robert Grant were in the trenches and a +little more tension and dread was added to the Ingleside life. In March +"Yiprez," as Susan called it, had come to have a bitter significance. +The daily list of casualties had begun to appear in the papers and no +one at Ingleside ever answered the telephone without a horrible cold +shrinking--for it might be the station-master phoning up to say a +telegram had come from overseas. No one at Ingleside ever got up in the +morning without a sudden piercing wonder over what the day might bring. + +"And I used to welcome the mornings so," thought Rilla. + +Yet the round of life and duty went steadily on and every week or so +one of the Glen lads who had just the other day been a rollicking +schoolboy went into khaki. + +"It is bitter cold out tonight, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan, coming in +out of the clear starlit crispness of the Canadian winter twilight. "I +wonder if the boys in the trenches are warm." + +"How everything comes back to this war," cried Gertrude Oliver. "We +can't get away from it--not even when we talk of the weather. I never +go out these dark cold nights myself without thinking of the men in the +trenches--not only our men but everybody's men. I would feel the same +if there were nobody I knew at the front. When I snuggle down in my +comfortable bed I am ashamed of being comfortable. It seems as if it +were wicked of me to be so when many are not." + +"I saw Mrs. Meredith down at the store," said Susan, "and she tells me +that they are really troubled over Bruce, he takes things so much to +heart. He has cried himself to sleep for a week, over the starving +Belgians. 'Oh, mother,' he will say to her, so beseeching-like, 'surely +the babies are never hungry--oh, not the babies, mother! Just say the +babies are not hungry, mother.' And she cannot say it because it would +not be true, and she is at her wits' end. They try to keep such things +from him but he finds them out and then they cannot comfort him. It +breaks my heart to read about them myself, Mrs. Dr. dear, and I cannot +console myself with the thought that the tales are not true. When I +read a novel that makes me want to weep I just say severely to myself, +'Now, Susan Baker, you know that is all a pack of lies.' But we must +carry on. Jack Crawford says he is going to the war because he is tired +of farming. I hope he will find it a pleasant change. And Mrs. Richard +Elliott over-harbour is worrying herself sick because she used to be +always scolding her husband about smoking up the parlour curtains. Now +that he has enlisted she wishes she had never said a word to him. You +know Josiah Cooper and William Daley, Mrs. Dr. dear. They used to be +fast friends but they quarrelled twenty years ago and have never spoken +since. Well, the other day Josiah went to William and said right out, +'Let us be friends. 'Tain't any time to be holding grudges.' William +was real glad and held out his hand, and they sat down for a good talk. +And in less than half an hour they had quarrelled again, over how the +war ought to be fought, Josiah holding that the Dardanelles expedition +was rank folly and William maintaining that it was the one sensible +thing the Allies had done. And now they are madder at each other than +ever and William says Josiah is as bad a pro-German as +Whiskers-on-the-Moon. Whiskers-on-the-moon vows he is no pro-German but +calls himself a pacifist, whatever that may be. It is nothing proper or +Whiskers would not be it and that you may tie to. He says that the big +British victory at New Chapelle cost more than it was worth and he has +forbid Joe Milgrave to come near the house because Joe ran up his +father's flag when the news came. Have you noticed, Mrs. Dr. dear, that +the Czar has changed that Prish name to Premysl, which proves that the +man had good sense, Russian though he is? Joe Vickers told me in the +store that he saw a very queer looking thing in the sky tonight over +Lowbridge way. Do you suppose it could have been a Zeppelin, Mrs. Dr. +dear?" + +"I do not think it very likely, Susan." + +"Well, I would feel easier about it if Whiskers-on-the-moon were not +living in the Glen. They say he was seen going through strange +manoeuvres with a lantern in his back yard one night lately. Some +people think he was signalling." + +"To whom--or what?" + +"Ah, that is the mystery, Mrs. Dr. dear. In my opinion the Government +would do well to keep an eye on that man if it does not want us to be +all murdered in our beds some night. Now I shall just look over the +papers a minute before going to write a letter to little Jem. Two +things I never did, Mrs. Dr. dear, were write letters and read +politics. Yet here I am doing both regular and I find there is +something in politics after all. Whatever Woodrow Wilson means I cannot +fathom but I am hoping I will puzzle it out yet." + +Susan, in her pursuit of Wilson and politics, presently came upon +something that disturbed her and exclaimed in a tone of bitter +disappointment, + +"That devilish Kaiser has only a boil after all." + +"Don't swear, Susan," said Dr. Blythe, pulling a long face. + +"'Devilish' is not swearing, doctor, dear. I have always understood +that swearing was taking the name of the Almighty in vain?" + +"Well, it isn't--ahem--refined," said the doctor, winking at Miss +Oliver. + +"No, doctor, dear, the devil and the Kaiser--if so be that they are +really two different people--are not refined. And you cannot refer to +them in a refined way. So I abide by what I said, although you may +notice that I am careful not to use such expressions when young Rilla +is about. And I maintain that the papers have no right to say that the +Kaiser has pneumonia and raise people's hopes, and then come out and +say he has nothing but a boil. A boil, indeed! I wish he was covered +with them." + +Susan stalked out to the kitchen and settled down to write to Jem; +deeming him in need of some home comfort from certain passages in his +letter that day. + +"We're in an old wine cellar tonight, dad," he wrote, "in water to our +knees. Rats everywhere--no fire--a drizzling rain coming down--rather +dismal. But it might be worse. I got Susan's box today and everything +was in tip-top order and we had a feast. Jerry is up the line somewhere +and he says the rations are rather worse than Aunt Martha's ditto used +to be. But here they're not bad--only monotonous. Tell Susan I'd give a +year's pay for a good batch of her monkey-faces; but don't let that +inspire her to send any for they wouldn't keep. + +"We have been under fire since the last week in February. One boy--he +was a Nova Scotian--was killed right beside me yesterday. A shell burst +near us and when the mess cleared away he was lying dead--not mangled +at all--he just looked a little startled. It was the first time I'd +been close to anything like that and it was a nasty sensation, but one +soon gets used to horrors here. We're in an absolutely different world. +The only things that are the same are the stars--and they are never in +their right places, somehow. + +"Tell mother not to worry--I'm all right--fit as a fiddle--and glad I +came. There's something across from us here that has got to be wiped +out of the world, that's all--an emanation of evil that would otherwise +poison life for ever. It's got to be done, dad, however long it takes, +and whatever it costs, and you tell the Glen people this for me. They +don't realize yet what it is has broken loose--I didn't when I first +joined up. I thought it was fun. Well, it isn't! But I'm in the right +place all right--make no mistake about that. When I saw what had been +done here to homes and gardens and people--well, dad, I seemed to see a +gang of Huns marching through Rainbow Valley and the Glen, and the +garden at Ingleside. There were gardens over here--beautiful gardens +with the beauty of centuries--and what are they now? Mangled, +desecrated things! We are fighting to make those dear old places where +we had played as children, safe for other boys and girls--fighting for +the preservation and safety of all sweet, wholesome things. + +"Whenever any of you go to the station be sure to give Dog Monday a +double pat for me. Fancy the faithful little beggar waiting there for +me like that! Honestly, dad, on some of these dark cold nights in the +trenches, it heartens and braces me up no end to think that thousands +of miles away at the old Glen station there is a small spotted dog +sharing my vigil. + +"Tell Rilla I'm glad her war-baby is turning out so well, and tell +Susan that I'm fighting a good fight against both Huns and cooties." + +"Mrs. Dr. dear," whispered Susan solemnly, "what are cooties?" + +Mrs. Blythe whispered back and then said in reply to Susan's horrified +ejaculations, "It's always like that in the trenches, Susan." + +Susan shook her head and went away in grim silence to re-open a parcel +she had sewed up for Jem and slip in a fine tooth comb. + + + +CHAPTER XII + +IN THE DAYS OF LANGEMARCK + +"How can spring come and be beautiful in such a horror," wrote Rilla in +her diary. "When the sun shines and the fluffy yellow catkins are +coming out on the willow-trees down by the brook, and the garden is +beginning to be beautiful I can't realize that such dreadful things are +happening in Flanders. But they are! + +"This past week has been terrible for us all, since the news came of +the fighting around Ypres and the battles of Langemarck and St. Julien. +Our Canadian boys have done splendidly--General French says they 'saved +the situation,' when the Germans had all but broken through. But I +can't feel pride or exultation or anything but a gnawing anxiety over +Jem and Jerry and Mr. Grant. The casualty lists are coming out in the +papers every day--oh, there are so many of them. I can't bear to read +them for fear I'd find Jem's name--for there have been cases where +people have seen their boys' names in the casualty lists before the +official telegram came. As for the telephone, for a day or two I just +refused to answer it, because I thought I could not endure the horrible +moment that came between saying 'Hello' and hearing the response. That +moment seemed a hundred years long, for I was always dreading to hear +'There is a telegram for Dr. Blythe.' Then, when I had shirked for a +while, I was ashamed of leaving it all for mother or Susan, and now I +make myself go. But it never gets any easier. Gertrude teaches school +and reads compositions and sets examination papers just as she always +has done, but I know her thoughts are over in Flanders all the time. +Her eyes haunt me. + +"And Kenneth is in khaki now, too. He has got a lieutenant's commission +and expects to go overseas in midsummer, so he wrote me. There wasn't +much else in the letter--he seemed to be thinking of nothing but going +overseas. I shall not see him again before he goes--perhaps I will +never see him again. Sometimes I ask myself if that evening at Four +Winds was all a dream. It might as well be--it seems as if it happened +in another life lived years ago--and everybody has forgotten it but me. + +"Walter and Nan and Di came home last night from Redmond. When Walter +stepped off the train Dog Monday rushed to meet him, frantic with joy. +I suppose he thought Jem would be there, too. After the first moment, +he paid no attention to Walter and his pats, but just stood there, +wagging his tail nervously and looking past Walter at the other people +coming out, with eyes that made me choke up, for I couldn't help +thinking that, for all we knew, Monday might never see Jem come off +that train again. Then, when all the people were out, Monday looked up +at Walter, gave his hand a little lick as if to say, 'I know it isn't +your fault he didn't come--excuse me for feeling disappointed,' and +then he trotted back to his shed, with that funny little sidelong +waggle of his that always makes it seem that his hind legs are +travelling directly away from the point at which his forelegs are +aiming. + +"We tried to coax him home with us--Di even got down and kissed him +between the eyes and said, 'Monday, old duck, won't you come up with us +just for the evening?' And Monday said--he did!--'I am very sorry but I +can't. I've got a date to meet Jem here, you know, and there's a train +goes through at eight.' + +"It's lovely to have Walter back again though he seems quiet and sad, +just as he was at Christmas. But I'm going to love him hard and cheer +him up and make him laugh as he used to. It seems to me that every day +of my life Walter means more to me. + +"The other evening Susan happened to say that the mayflowers were out +in Rainbow Valley. I chanced to be looking at mother when Susan spoke. +Her face changed and she gave a queer little choked cry. Most of the +time mother is so spunky and gay you would never guess what she feels +inside; but now and then some little thing is too much for her and we +see under the surface. 'Mayflowers!' she said. 'Jem brought me +mayflowers last year!' and she got up and went out of the room. I would +have rushed off to Rainbow Valley and brought her an armful of +mayflowers, but I knew that wasn't what she wanted. And after Walter +got home last night he slipped away to the valley and brought mother +home all the mayflowers he could find. Nobody had said a word to him +about it--he just remembered himself that Jem used to bring mother the +first mayflowers and so he brought them in Jem's place. It shows how +tender and thoughtful he is. And yet there are people who send him +cruel letters! + +"It seems strange that we can go in with ordinary life just as if +nothing were happening overseas that concerned us, just as if any day +might not bring us awful news. But we can and do. Susan is putting in +the garden, and mother and she are housecleaning, and we Junior Reds +are getting up a concert in aid of the Belgians. We have been +practising for a month and having no end of trouble and bother with +cranky people. Miranda Pryor promised to help with a dialogue and when +she had her part all learnt her father put his foot down and refused to +allow her to help at all. I am not blaming Miranda exactly, but I do +think she might have a little more spunk sometimes. If she put her foot +down once in a while she might bring her father to terms, for she is +all the housekeeper he has and what would he do if she 'struck'? If I +were in Miranda's shoes I'd find some way of managing +Whiskers-on-the-moon. I would horse-whip him, or bite him, if nothing +else would serve. But Miranda is a meek and obedient daughter whose +days should be long in the land. + +"I couldn't get anyone else to take the part, because nobody liked it, +so finally I had to take it myself. Olive Kirk is on the concert +committee and goes against me in every single thing. But I got my way +in asking Mrs. Channing to come out from town and sing for us, anyhow. +She is a beautiful singer and will draw such a crowd that we will make +more than we will have to pay her. Olive Kirk thought our local talent +good enough and Minnie Clow won't sing at all now in the choruses +because she would be so nervous before Mrs. Channing. And Minnie is the +only good alto we have! There are times when I am so exasperated that I +feel tempted to wash my hands of the whole affair; but after I dance +round my room a few times in sheer rage I cool down and have another +whack at it. Just at present I am racked with worry for fear the Isaac +Reeses are taking whooping-cough. They have all got a dreadful cold and +there are five of them who have important parts in the programme and if +they go and develop whooping-cough what shall I do? Dick Reese's violin +solo is to be one of our titbits and Kit Reese is in every tableau and +the three small girls have the cutest flag-drill. I've been toiling for +weeks to train them in it, and now it seems likely that all my trouble +will go for nothing. + +"Jims cut his first tooth today. I am very glad, for he is nearly nine +months old and Mary Vance has been insinuating that he is awfully +backward about cutting his teeth. He has begun to creep but doesn't +crawl as most babies do. He trots about on all fours and carries things +in his mouth like a little dog. Nobody can say he isn't up to schedule +time in the matter of creeping anyway--away ahead of it indeed, since +ten months is Morgan's average for creeping. He is so cute, it will be +a shame if his dad never sees him. His hair is coming on nicely too, +and I am not without hope that it will be curly. + +"Just for a few minutes, while I've been writing of Jims and the +concert, I've forgotten Ypres and the poison gas and the casualty +lists. Now it all rushes back, worse than ever. Oh, if we could just +know that Jem is all right! I used to be so furious with Jem when he +called me Spider. And now, if he would just come whistling through the +hall and call out, 'Hello, Spider,' as he used to do, I would think it +the loveliest name in the world." + +Rilla put away her diary and went out to the garden. The spring evening +was very lovely. The long, green, seaward-looking glen was filled with +dusk, and beyond it were meadows of sunset. The harbour was radiant, +purple here, azure there, opal elsewhere. The maple grove was beginning +to be misty green. Rilla looked about her with wistful eyes. Who said +that spring was the joy of the year? It was the heart-break of the +year. And the pale-purply mornings and the daffodil stars and the wind +in the old pine were so many separate pangs of the heart-break. Would +life ever be free from dread again? + +"It's good to see P.E.I. twilight once more," said Walter, joining her. +"I didn't really remember that the sea was so blue and the roads so red +and the wood nooks so wild and fairy haunted. Yes, the fairies still +abide here. I vow I could find scores of them under the violets in +Rainbow Valley." + +Rilla was momentarily happy. This sounded like the Walter of yore. She +hoped he was forgetting certain things that had troubled him. + +"And isn't the sky blue over Rainbow Valley?" she said, responding to +his mood. "Blue--blue--you'd have to say 'blue' a hundred times before +you could express how blue it is." + +Susan wandered by, her head tied up with a shawl, her hands full of +garden implements. Doc, stealthy and wild-eyed, was shadowing her steps +among the spirea bushes. + +"The sky may be blue," said Susan, "but that cat has been Hyde all day +so we will likely have rain tonight and by the same token I have +rheumatism in my shoulder." + +"It may rain--but don't think rheumatism, Susan--think violets," said +Walter gaily--rather too gaily, Rilla thought. + +Susan considered him unsympathetic. + +"Indeed, Walter dear, I do not know what you mean by thinking violets," +she responded stiffly, "and rheumatism is not a thing to be joked +about, as you may some day realize for yourself. I hope I am not of the +kind that is always complaining of their aches and pains, especially +now when the news is so terrible. Rheumatism is bad enough but I +realize, and none better, that it is not to be compared to being gassed +by the Huns." + +"Oh, my God, no!" exclaimed Walter passionately. He turned and went +back to the house. + +Susan shook her head. She disapproved entirely of such ejaculations. "I +hope he will not let his mother hear him talking like that," she +thought as she stacked the hoes and rake away. + +Rilla was standing among the budding daffodils with tear-filled eyes. +Her evening was spoiled; she detested Susan, who had somehow hurt +Walter; and Jem--had Jem been gassed? Had he died in torture? + +"I can't endure this suspense any longer," said Rilla desperately. + +But she endured it as the others did for another week. Then a letter +came from Jem. He was all right. + +"I've come through without a scratch, dad. Don't know how I or any of +us did it. You'll have seen all about it in the papers--I can't write +of it. But the Huns haven't got through--they won't get through. Jerry +was knocked stiff by a shell one time, but it was only the shock. He +was all right in a few days. Grant is safe, too." + +Nan had a letter from Jerry Meredith. "I came back to consciousness at +dawn," he wrote. "Couldn't tell what had happened to me but thought +that I was done for. I was all alone and afraid--terribly afraid. Dead +men were all around me, lying on the horrible grey, slimy fields. I was +woefully thirsty--and I thought of David and the Bethlehem water--and +of the old spring in Rainbow Valley under the maples. I seemed to see +it just before me--and you standing laughing on the other side of +it--and I thought it was all over with me. And I didn't care. Honestly, +I didn't care. I just felt a dreadful childish fear of loneliness and +of those dead men around me, and a sort of wonder how this could have +happened to me. Then they found me and carted me off and before long I +discovered that there wasn't really anything wrong with me. I'm going +back to the trenches tomorrow. Every man is needed there that can be +got." + +"Laughter is gone out of the world," said Faith Meredith, who had come +over to report on her letters. "I remember telling old Mrs. Taylor long +ago that the world was a world of laughter. But it isn't so any longer." + +"It's a shriek of anguish," said Gertrude Oliver. + +"We must keep a little laughter, girls," said Mrs. Blythe. "A good +laugh is as good as a prayer sometimes--only sometimes," she added +under her breath. She had found it very hard to laugh during the three +weeks she had just lived through--she, Anne Blythe, to whom laughter +had always come so easily and freshly. And what hurt most was that +Rilla's laughter had grown so rare--Rilla whom she used to think +laughed over-much. Was all the child's girlhood to be so clouded? Yet +how strong and clever and womanly she was growing! How patiently she +knitted and sewed and manipulated those uncertain Junior Reds! And how +wonderful she was with Jims. + +"She really could not do better for that child than if she had raised a +baker's dozen, Mrs. Dr. dear," Susan had avowed solemnly. "Little did I +ever expect it of her on the day she landed here with that soup tureen." + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +A SLICE OF HUMBLE PIE + +"I am very much afraid, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan, who had been on a +pilgrimage to the station with some choice bones for Dog Monday, "that +something terrible has happened. Whiskers-on-the-moon came off the +train from Charlottetown and he was looking pleased. I do not remember +that I ever saw him with a smile on in public before. Of course he may +have just been getting the better of somebody in a cattle deal but I +have an awful presentiment that the Huns have broken through somewhere." + +Perhaps Susan was unjust in connecting Mr. Pryor's smile with the +sinking of the Lusitania, news of which circulated an hour later when +the mail was distributed. But the Glen boys turned out that night in a +body and broke all his windows in a fine frenzy of indignation over the +Kaiser's doings. + +"I do not say they did right and I do not say they did wrong," said +Susan, when she heard of it. "But I will say that I wouldn't have +minded throwing a few stones myself. One thing is +certain--Whiskers-on-the-moon said in the post office the day the news +came, in the presence of witnesses, that folks who could not stay home +after they had been warned deserved no better fate. Norman Douglas is +fairly foaming at the mouth over it all. 'If the devil doesn't get +those men who sunk the Lusitania then there is no use in there being a +devil,' he was shouting in Carter's store last night. Norman Douglas +always has believed that anybody who opposed him was on the side of the +devil, but a man like that is bound to be right once in a while. Bruce +Meredith is worrying over the babies who were drowned. And it seems he +prayed for something very special last Friday night and didn't get it, +and was feeling quite disgruntled over it. But when he heard about the +Lusitania he told his mother that he understood now why God didn't +answer his prayer--He was too busy attending to the souls of all the +people who went down on the Lusitania. That child's brain is a hundred +years older than his body, Mrs. Dr. dear. As for the Lusitania, it is +an awful occurrence, whatever way you look at it. But Woodrow Wilson is +going to write a note about it, so why worry? A pretty president!" and +Susan banged her pots about wrathfully. President Wilson was rapidly +becoming anathema in Susan's kitchen. + +Mary Vance dropped in one evening to tell the Ingleside folks that she +had withdrawn all opposition to Miller Douglas's enlisting. + +"This Lusitania business was too much for me," said Mary brusquely. +"When the Kaiser takes to drowning innocent babies it's high time +somebody told him where he gets off at. This thing must be fought to a +finish. It's been soaking into my mind slow but I'm on now. So I up and +told Miller he could go as far as I was concerned. Old Kitty Alec won't +be converted though. If every ship in the world was submarined and +every baby drowned, Kitty wouldn't turn a hair. But I flatter myself +that it was me kept Miller back all along and not the fair Kitty. I may +have deceived myself--but we shall see." + +They did see. The next Sunday Miller Douglas walked into the Glen +Church beside Mary Vance in khaki. And Mary was so proud of him that +her white eyes fairly blazed. Joe Milgrave, back under the gallery, +looked at Miller and Mary and then at Miranda Pryor, and sighed so +heavily that every one within a radius of three pews heard him and knew +what his trouble was. Walter Blythe did not sigh. But Rilla, scanning +his face anxiously, saw a look that cut into her heart. It haunted her +for the next week and made an undercurrent of soreness in her soul, +which was externally being harrowed up by the near approach of the Red +Cross concert and the worries connected therewith. The Reese cold had +not developed into whooping-cough, so that tangle was straightened out. +But other things were hanging in the balance; and on the very day +before the concert came a regretful letter from Mrs. Channing saying +that she could not come to sing. Her son, who was in Kingsport with his +regiment, was seriously ill with pneumonia, and she must go to him at +once. + +The members of the concert committee looked at each other in blank +dismay. What was to be done? + +"This comes of depending on outside help," said Olive Kirk, +disagreeably. + +"We must do something," said Rilla, too desperate to care for Olive's +manner. "We've advertised the concert everywhere--and crowds are +coming--there's even a big party coming out from town--and we were +short enough of music as it was. We must get some one to sing in Mrs. +Channing's place." + +"I don't know who you can get at this late date," said Olive. "Irene +Howard could do it; but it is not likely she will after the way she was +insulted by our society." + +"How did our society insult her?" asked Rilla, in what she called her +'cold-pale tone.' Its coldness and pallor did not daunt Olive. + +"You insulted her," she answered sharply. "Irene told me all about +it--she was literally heart-broken. You told her never to speak to you +again--and Irene told me she simply could not imagine what she had said +or done to deserve such treatment. That was why she never came to our +meetings again but joined in with the Lowbridge Red Cross. I do not +blame her in the least, and I, for one, will not ask her to lower +herself by helping us out of this scrape." + +"You don't expect me to ask her?" giggled Amy MacAllister, the other +member of the committee. "Irene and I haven't spoken for a hundred +years. Irene is always getting 'insulted' by somebody. But she is a +lovely singer, I'll admit that, and people would just as soon hear her +as Mrs. Channing." + +"It wouldn't do any good if you did ask her," said Olive significantly. +"Soon after we began planning this concert, back in April, I met Irene +in town one day and asked her if she wouldn't help us out. She said +she'd love to but she really didn't see how she could when Rilla Blythe +was running the programme, after the strange way Rilla had behaved to +her. So there it is and here we are, and a nice failure our concert +will be." + +Rilla went home and shut herself up in her room, her soul in a turmoil. +She would not humiliate herself by apologizing to Irene Howard! Irene +had been as much in the wrong as she had been; and she had told such +mean, distorted versions of their quarrel everywhere, posing as a +puzzled, injured martyr. Rilla could never bring herself to tell her +side of it. The fact that a slur at Walter was mixed up in it tied her +tongue. So most people believed that Irene had been badly used, except +a few girls who had never liked her and sided with Rilla. And yet--the +concert over which she had worked so hard was going to be a failure. +Mrs. Channing's four solos were the feature of the whole programme. + +"Miss Oliver, what do you think about it?" she asked in desperation. + +"I think Irene is the one who should apologize," said Miss Oliver. "But +unfortunately my opinion will not fill the blanks in your programme." + +"If I went and apologized meekly to Irene she would sing, I am sure," +sighed Rilla. "She really loves to sing in public. But I know she'll be +nasty about it--I feel I'd rather do anything than go. I suppose I +should go--if Jem and Jerry can face the Huns surely I can face Irene +Howard, and swallow my pride to ask a favour of her for the good of the +Belgians. Just at present I feel that I cannot do it but for all that I +have a presentiment that after supper you'll see me meekly trotting +through Rainbow Valley on my way to the Upper Glen Road." + +Rilla's presentiment proved correct. After supper she dressed herself +carefully in her blue, beaded crepe--for vanity is harder to quell than +pride and Irene always saw any flaw or shortcoming in another girl's +appearance. Besides, as Rilla had told her mother one day when she was +nine years old, "It is easier to behave nicely when you have your good +clothes on." + +Rilla did her hair very becomingly and donned a long raincoat for fear +of a shower. But all the while her thoughts were concerned with the +coming distasteful interview, and she kept rehearsing mentally her part +in it. She wished it were over--she wished she had never tried to get +up a Belgian Relief concert--she wished she had not quarreled with +Irene. After all, disdainful silence would have been much more +effective in meeting the slur upon Walter. It was foolish and childish +to fly out as she had done--well, she would be wiser in the future, but +meanwhile a large and very unpalatable slice of humble pie had to be +eaten, and Rilla Blythe was no fonder of that wholesome article of diet +than the rest of us. + +By sunset she was at the door of the Howard house--a pretentious abode, +with white scroll-work round the eaves and an eruption of bay-windows +on all its sides. Mrs. Howard, a plump, voluble dame, met Rilla +gushingly and left her in the parlour while she went to call Irene. +Rilla threw off her rain-coat and looked at herself critically in the +mirror over the mantel. Hair, hat, and dress were satisfactory--nothing +there for Miss Irene to make fun of. Rilla remembered how clever and +amusing she used to think Irene's biting little comments about other +girls. Well, it had come home to her now. + +Presently, Irene skimmed down, elegantly gowned, with her pale, +straw-coloured hair done in the latest and most extreme fashion, and an +over-luscious atmosphere of perfume enveloping her. + +"Why how do you do, Miss Blythe?" she said sweetly. "This is a very +unexpected pleasure." + +Rilla had risen to take Irene's chilly finger-tips and now, as she sat +down again, she saw something that temporarily stunned her. Irene saw +it too, as she sat down, and a little amused, impertinent smile +appeared on her lips and hovered there during the rest of the interview. + +On one of Rilla's feet was a smart little steel-buckled shoe and a +filmy blue silk stocking. The other was clad in a stout and rather +shabby boot and black lisle! + +Poor Rilla! She had changed, or begun to change her boots and stockings +after she had put on her dress. This was the result of doing one thing +with your hands and another with your brain. Oh, what a ridiculous +position to be in--and before Irene Howard of all people--Irene, who +was staring at Rilla's feet as if she had never seen feet before! And +once she had thought Irene's manner perfection! Everything that Rilla +had prepared to say vanished from her memory. Vainly trying to tuck her +unlucky foot under her chair, she blurted out a blunt statement. + +"I have come to athk a favour of you, Irene." + +There--lisping! Oh, she had been prepared for humiliation but not to +this extent! Really, there were limits! + +"Yes?" said Irene in a cool, questioning tone, lifting her +shallowly-set, insolent eyes to Rilla's crimson face for a moment and +then dropping them again as if she could not tear them from their +fascinated gaze at the shabby boot and the gallant shoe. + +Rilla gathered herself together. She would not lisp--she would be calm +and composed. + +"Mrs. Channing cannot come because her son is ill in Kingsport, and I +have come on behalf of the committee to ask you if you will be so kind +as to sing for us in her place." Rilla enunciated every word so +precisely and carefully that she seemed to be reciting a lesson. + +"It's something of a fiddler's invitation, isn't it?" said Irene, with +one of her disagreeable smiles. + +"Olive Kirk asked you to help when we first thought of the concert and +you refused," said Rilla. + +"Why, I could hardly help--then--could I?" asked Irene plaintively. +"After you ordered me never to speak to you again? It would have been +very awkward for us both, don't you think?" + +Now for the humble pie. + +"I want to apologize to you for saying that, Irene." said Rilla +steadily. "I should not have said it and I have been very sorry ever +since. Will you forgive me?" + +"And sing at your concert?" said Irene sweetly and insultingly. + +"If you mean," said Rilla miserably, "that I would not be apologizing +to you if it were not for the concert perhaps that is true. But it is +also true that I have felt ever since it happened that I should not +have said what I did and that I have been sorry for it all winter. That +is all I can say. If you feel you can't forgive me I suppose there is +nothing more to be said." + +"Oh, Rilla dear, don't snap me up like that," pleaded Irene. "Of course +I'll forgive you--though I did feel awfully about it--how awfully I +hope you'll never know. I cried for weeks over it. And I hadn't said or +done a thing!" + +Rilla choked back a retort. After all, there was no use in arguing with +Irene, and the Belgians were starving. + +"Don't you think you can help us with the concert," she forced herself +to say. Oh, if only Irene would stop looking at that boot! Rilla could +just hear her giving Olive Kirk an account of it. + +"I don't see how I really can at the last moment like this," protested +Irene. "There isn't time to learn anything new." + +"Oh, you have lots of lovely songs that nobody in the Glen ever heard +before," said Rilla, who knew Irene had been going to town all winter +for lessons and that this was only a pretext. "They will all be new +down there." + +"But I have no accompanist," protested Irene. + +"Una Meredith can accompany you," said Rilla. + +"Oh, I couldn't ask her," sighed Irene. "We haven't spoken since last +fall. She was so hateful to me the time of our Sunday-school concert +that I simply had to give her up." + +Dear, dear, was Irene at feud with everybody? As for Una Meredith being +hateful to anybody, the idea was so farcical that Rilla had much ado to +keep from laughing in Irene's very face. + +"Miss Oliver is a beautiful pianist and can play any accompaniment at +sight," said Rilla desperately. "She will play for you and you could +run over your songs easily tomorrow evening at Ingleside before the +concert." + +"But I haven't anything to wear. My new evening-dress isn't home from +Charlottetown yet, and I simply cannot wear my old one at such a big +affair. It is too shabby and old-fashioned." + +"Our concert," said Rilla slowly, "is in aid of Belgian children who +are starving to death. Don't you think you could wear a shabby dress +once for their sake, Irene?" + +"Oh, don't you think those accounts we get of the conditions of the +Belgians are very much exaggerated?" said Irene. "I'm sure they can't +be actually starving you know, in the twentieth century. The newspapers +always colour things so highly." + +Rilla concluded that she had humiliated herself enough. There was such +a thing as self-respect. No more coaxing, concert or no concert. She +got up, boot and all. + +"I am sorry you can't help us, Irene, but since you cannot we must do +the best we can." + +Now this did not suit Irene at all. She desired exceedingly to sing at +that concert, and all her hesitations were merely by way of enhancing +the boon of her final consent. Besides, she really wanted to be friends +with Rilla again. Rilla's whole-hearted, ungrudging adoration had been +very sweet incense to her. And Ingleside was a very charming house to +visit, especially when a handsome college student like Walter was home. +She stopped looking at Rilla's feet. + +"Rilla, darling, don't be so abrupt. I really want to help you, if I +can manage it. Just sit down and let's talk it over." + +"I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to be home soon--Jims has to be settled +for the night, you know." + +"Oh, yes--the baby you are bringing up by the book. It's perfectly +sweet of you to do it when you hate children so. How cross you were +just because I kissed him! But we'll forget all that and be chums +again, won't we? Now, about the concert--I dare say I can run into town +on the morning train after my dress, and out again on the afternoon one +in plenty of time for the concert, if you'll ask Miss Oliver to play +for me. I couldn't--she's so dreadfully haughty and supercilious that +she simply paralyses poor little me." + +Rilla did not waste time or breath defending Miss Oliver. She coolly +thanked Irene, who had suddenly become very amiable and gushing, and +got away. She was very thankful the interview was over. But she knew +now that she and Irene could never be the friends they had been. +Friendly, yes--but friends, no. Nor did she wish it. All winter she had +felt under her other and more serious worries, a little feeling of +regret for her lost chum. Now it was suddenly gone. Irene was not as +Mrs. Elliott would say, of the race that knew Joseph. Rilla did not say +or think that she had outgrown Irene. Had the thought occurred to her +she would have considered it absurd when she was not yet seventeen and +Irene was twenty. But it was the truth. Irene was just what she had +been a year ago--just what she would always be. Rilla Blythe's nature +in that year had changed and matured and deepened. She found herself +seeing through Irene with a disconcerting clearness--discerning under +all her superficial sweetness, her pettiness, her vindictiveness, her +insincerity, her essential cheapness. Irene had lost for ever her +faithful worshipper. + +But not until Rilla had traversed the Upper Glen Road and found herself +in the moon-dappled solitude of Rainbow Valley did she fully recover +her composure of spirit. Then she stopped under a tall wild plum that +was ghostly white and fair in its misty spring bloom and laughed. + +"There is only one thing of importance just now--and that is that the +Allies win the war," she said aloud. "Therefore, it follows without +dispute that the fact that I went to see Irene Howard with odd shoes +and stockings on is of no importance whatever. Nevertheless, I, Bertha +Marilla Blythe, swear solemnly with the moon as witness"--Rilla lifted +her hand dramatically to the said moon--"that I will never leave my +room again without looking carefully at both my feet." + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE VALLEY OF DECISION + +Susan kept the flag flying at Ingleside all the next day, in honour of +Italy's declaration of war. + +"And not before it was time, Mrs. Dr. dear, considering the way things +have begun to go on the Russian front. Say what you will, those +Russians are kittle cattle, the grand duke Nicholas to the contrary +notwithstanding. It is a fortunate thing for Italy that she has come in +on the right side, but whether it is as fortunate for the Allies I will +not predict until I know more about Italians than I do now. However, +she will give that old reprobate of a Francis Joseph something to think +about. A pretty Emperor indeed--with one foot in the grave and yet +plotting wholesale murder"--and Susan thumped and kneaded her bread +with as much vicious energy as she could have expended in punching +Francis Joseph himself if he had been so unlucky as to fall into her +clutches. + +Walter had gone to town on the early train, and Nan offered to look +after Jims for the day and so set Rilla free. Rilla was wildly busy all +day, helping to decorate the Glen hall and seeing to a hundred last +things. The evening was beautiful, in spite of the fact that Mr. Pryor +was reported to have said that he "hoped it would rain pitch forks +points down," and to have wantonly kicked Miranda's dog as he said it. +Rilla, rushing home from the hall, dressed hurriedly. Everything had +gone surprisingly well at the last; Irene was even then downstairs +practising her songs with Miss Oliver; Rilla was excited and happy, +forgetful even of the Western front for the moment. It gave her a sense +of achievement and victory to have brought her efforts of weeks to such +a successful conclusion. She knew that there had not lacked people who +thought and hinted that Rilla Blythe had not the tact or patience to +engineer a concert programme. She had shown them! Little snatches of +song bubbled up from her lips as she dressed. She thought she was +looking very well. Excitement brought a faint, becoming pink into her +round creamy cheeks, quite drowning out her few freckles, and her hair +gleamed with red-brown lustre. Should she wear crab-apple blossoms in +it, or her little fillet of pearls? After some agonised wavering she +decided on the crab-apple blossoms and tucked the white waxen cluster +behind her left ear. Now for a final look at her feet. Yes, both +slippers were on. She gave the sleeping Jims a kiss--what a dear little +warm, rosy, satin face he had--and hurried down the hill to the hall. +Already it was filling--soon it was crowded. Her concert was going to +be a brilliant success. + +The first three numbers were successfully over. Rilla was in the little +dressing-room behind the platform, looking out on the moonlit harbour +and rehearsing her own recitations. She was alone, the rest of the +performers being in the larger room on the other side. Suddenly she +felt two soft bare arms slipping round her waist, then Irene Howard +dropped a light kiss on her cheek. + +"Rilla, you sweet thing, you're looking simply angelic to-night. You +have spunk--I thought you would feel so badly over Walter's enlisting +that you'd hardly be able to bear up at all, and here you are as cool +as a cucumber. I wish I had half your nerve." + +Rilla stood perfectly still. She felt no emotion whatever--she felt +nothing. The world of feeling had just gone blank. + +"Walter--enlisting"--she heard herself saying--then she heard Irene's +affected little laugh. + +"Why, didn't you know? I thought you did of course, or I wouldn't have +mentioned it. I am always putting my foot in it, aren't I? Yes, that is +what he went to town for to-day--he told me coming out on the train +to-night, I was the first person he told. He isn't in khaki yet--they +were out of uniforms--but he will be in a day or two. I always said +Walter had as much pluck as anybody. I assure you I felt proud of him, +Rilla, when he told me what he'd done. Oh, there's an end of Rick +MacAllister's reading. I must fly. I promised I'd play for the next +chorus--Alice Clow has such a headache." + +She was gone--oh, thank God, she was gone! Rilla was alone again, +staring out at the unchanged, dream-like beauty of moonlit Four Winds. +Feeling was coming back to her--a pang of agony so acute as to be +almost physical seemed to rend her apart. + +"I cannot bear it," she said. And then came the awful thought that +perhaps she could bear it and that there might be years of this hideous +suffering before her. + +She must get away--she must rush home--she must be alone. She could not +go out there and play for drills and give readings and take part in +dialogues now. It would spoil half the concert; but that did not +matter--nothing mattered. Was this she, Rilla Blythe--this tortured +thing, who had been quite happy a few minutes ago? Outside, a quartette +was singing "We'll never let the old flag fall"--the music seemed to be +coming from some remote distance. Why couldn't she cry, as she had +cried when Jem told them he must go? If she could cry perhaps this +horrible something that seemed to have seized on her very life might +let go. But no tears came! Where were her scarf and coat? She must get +away and hide herself like an animal hurt to the death. + +Was it a coward's part to run away like this? The question came to her +suddenly as if someone else had asked it. She thought of the shambles +of the Flanders front--she thought of her brother and her playmate +helping to hold those fire-swept trenches. What would they think of her +if she shirked her little duty here--the humble duty of carrying the +programme through for her Red Cross? But she couldn't stay--she +couldn't--yet what was it mother had said when Jem went: "When our +women fail in courage shall our men be fearless still?" But this--this +was unbearable. + +Still, she stopped half-way to the door and went back to the window. +Irene was singing now; her beautiful voice--the only real thing about +her--soared clear and sweet through the building. Rilla knew that the +girls' Fairy Drill came next. Could she go out there and play for it? +Her head was aching now--her throat was burning. Oh, why had Irene told +her just then, when telling could do no good? Irene had been very +cruel. Rilla remembered now that more than once that day she had caught +her mother looking at her with an odd expression. She had been too busy +to wonder what it meant. She understood now. Mother had known why +Walter went to town but wouldn't tell her until the concert was over. +What spirit and endurance mother had! + +"I must stay here and see things through," said Rilla, clasping her +cold hands together. + +The rest of the evening always seemed like a fevered dream to her. Her +body was crowded by people but her soul was alone in a torture-chamber +of its own. Yet she played steadily for the drills and gave her +readings without faltering. She even put on a grotesque old Irish +woman's costume and acted the part in the dialogue which Miranda Pryor +had not taken. But she did not give her "brogue" the inimitable twist +she had given it in the practices, and her readings lacked their usual +fire and appeal. As she stood before the audience she saw one face +only--that of the handsome, dark-haired lad sitting beside her +mother--and she saw that same face in the trenches--saw it lying cold +and dead under the stars--saw it pining in prison--saw the light of its +eyes blotted out--saw a hundred horrible things as she stood there on +the beflagged platform of the Glen hall with her own face whiter than +the milky crab-blossoms in her hair. Between her numbers she walked +restlessly up and down the little dressing-room. Would the concert +never end! + +It ended at last. Olive Kirk rushed up and told her exultantly that +they had made a hundred dollars. "That's good," Rilla said +mechanically. Then she was away from them all--oh, thank God, she was +away from them all--Walter was waiting for her at the door. He put his +arm through hers silently and they went together down the moonlit road. +The frogs were singing in the marshes, the dim, ensilvered fields of +home lay all around them. The spring night was lovely and appealing. +Rilla felt that its beauty was an insult to her pain. She would hate +moonlight for ever. + +"You know?" said Walter. + +"Yes. Irene told me," answered Rilla chokingly. + +"We didn't want you to know till the evening was over. I knew when you +came out for the drill that you had heard. Little sister, I had to do +it. I couldn't live any longer on such terms with myself as I have been +since the Lusitania was sunk. When I pictured those dead women and +children floating about in that pitiless, ice-cold water--well, at +first I just felt a sort of nausea with life. I wanted to get out of +the world where such a thing could happen--shake its accursed dust from +my feet for ever. Then I knew I had to go." + +"There are--plenty--without you." + +"That isn't the point, Rilla-my-Rilla. I'm going for my own sake--to +save my soul alive. It will shrink to something small and mean and +lifeless if I don't go. That would be worse than blindness or +mutilation or any of the things I've feared." + +"You may--be--killed," Rilla hated herself for saying it--she knew it +was a weak and cowardly thing to say--but she had rather gone to pieces +after the tension of the evening. + + "'Comes he slow or comes he fast + It is but death who comes at last.'" + +quoted Walter. "It's not death I fear--I told you that long ago. One +can pay too high a price for mere life, little sister. There's so much +hideousness in this war--I've got to go and help wipe it out of the +world. I'm going to fight for the beauty of life, Rilla-my-Rilla--that +is my duty. There may be a higher duty, perhaps--but that is mine. I +owe life and Canada that, and I've got to pay it. Rilla, tonight for +the first time since Jem left I've got back my self-respect. I could +write poetry," Walter laughed. "I've never been able to write a line +since last August. Tonight I'm full of it. Little sister, be brave--you +were so plucky when Jem went." + +"This--is--different," Rilla had to stop after every word to fight down +a wild outburst of sobs. "I loved--Jem--of course--but--when--he +went--away--we thought--the war--would soon--be over--and you +are--everything to me, Walter." + +"You must be brave to help me, Rilla-my-Rilla. I'm exalted +tonight--drunk with the excitement of victory over myself--but there +will be other times when it won't be like this--I'll need your help +then." + +"When--do--you--go?" She must know the worst at once. + +"Not for a week--then we go to Kingsport for training. I suppose we'll +go overseas about the middle of July--we don't know." + +One week--only one week more with Walter! The eyes of youth did not see +how she was to go on living. + +When they turned in at the Ingleside gate Walter stopped in the shadows +of the old pines and drew Rilla close to him. + +"Rilla-my-Rilla, there were girls as sweet and pure as you in Belgium +and Flanders. You--even you--know what their fate was. We must make it +impossible for such things to happen again while the world lasts. +You'll help me, won't you?" + +"I'll try, Walter," she said. "Oh, I will try." + +As she clung to him with her face pressed against his shoulder she knew +that it had to be. She accepted the fact then and there. He must +go--her beautiful Walter with his beautiful soul and dreams and ideals. +And she had known all along that it would come sooner or later. She had +seen it coming to her--coming--coming--as one sees the shadow of a +cloud drawing near over a sunny field, swiftly and inescapably. Amid +all her pain she was conscious of an odd feeling of relief in some +hidden part of her soul, where a little dull, unacknowledged soreness +had been lurking all winter. No one--no one could ever call Walter a +slacker now. + +Rilla did not sleep that night. Perhaps no one at Ingleside did except +Jims. The body grows slowly and steadily, but the soul grows by leaps +and bounds. It may come to its full stature in an hour. From that night +Rilla Blythe's soul was the soul of a woman in its capacity for +suffering, for strength, for endurance. + +When the bitter dawn came she rose and went to her window. Below her +was a big apple-tree, a great swelling cone of rosy blossom. Walter had +planted it years ago when he was a little boy. Beyond Rainbow Valley +there was a cloudy shore of morning with little ripples of sunrise +breaking over it. The far, cold beauty of a lingering star shone above +it. Why, in this world of springtime loveliness, must hearts break? + +Rilla felt arms go about her lovingly, protectingly. It was +mother--pale, large-eyed mother. + +"Oh, mother, how can you bear it?" she cried wildly. "Rilla, dear, I've +known for several days that Walter meant to go. I've had time to--to +rebel and grow reconciled. We must give him up. There is a Call greater +and more insistent than the call of our love--he has listened to it. We +must not add to the bitterness of his sacrifice." + +"Our sacrifice is greater than his," cried Rilla passionately. "Our +boys give only themselves. We give them." + +Before Mrs. Blythe could reply Susan stuck her head in at the door, +never troubling over such frills of etiquette as knocking. Her eyes +were suspiciously red but all she said was, + +"Will I bring up your breakfast, Mrs. Dr. dear." + +"No, no, Susan. We will all be down presently. Do you know--that Walter +has joined up." + +"Yes, Mrs. Dr. dear. The doctor told me last night. I suppose the +Almighty has His own reasons for allowing such things. We must submit +and endeavour to look on the bright side. It may cure him of being a +poet, at least"--Susan still persisted in thinking that poets and +tramps were tarred with the same brush--"and that would be something. +But thank God," she muttered in a lower tone, "that Shirley is not old +enough to go." + +"Isn't that the same thing as thanking Him that some other woman's son +has to go in Shirley's place?" asked the doctor, pausing on the +threshold. + +"No, it is not, doctor dear," said Susan defiantly, as she picked up +Jims, who was opening his big dark eyes and stretching up his dimpled +paws. "Do not you put words in my mouth that I would never dream of +uttering. I am a plain woman and cannot argue with you, but I do not +thank God that anybody has to go. I only know that it seems they do +have to go, unless we all want to be Kaiserised--for I can assure you +that the Monroe doctrine, whatever it is, is nothing to tie to, with +Woodrow Wilson behind it. The Huns, Dr. dear, will never be brought to +book by notes. And now," concluded Susan, tucking Jims in the crook of +her gaunt arms and marching downstairs, "having cried my cry and said +my say I shall take a brace, and if I cannot look pleasant I will look +as pleasant as I can." + + + +CHAPTER XV + +UNTIL THE DAY BREAK + +"The Germans have recaptured Premysl," said Susan despairingly, looking +up from her newspaper, "and now I suppose we will have to begin calling +it by that uncivilised name again. Cousin Sophia was in when the mail +came and when she heard the news she hove a sigh up from the depths of +her stomach, Mrs. Dr. dear, and said, 'Ah yes, and they will get +Petrograd next I have no doubt.' I said to her, 'My knowledge of +geography is not so profound as I wish it was but I have an idea that +it is quite a walk from Premysl to Petrograd.' Cousin Sophia sighed +again and said, 'The Grand Duke Nicholas is not the man I took him to +be.' 'Do not let him know that,' said I. 'It might hurt his feelings +and he has likely enough to worry him as it is. But you cannot cheer +Cousin Sophia up, no matter how sarcastic you are, Mrs. Dr. dear. She +sighed for the third time and groaned out, 'But the Russians are +retreating fast,' and I said, 'Well, what of it? They have plenty of +room for retreating, have they not?' But all the same, Mrs. Dr. dear, +though I would never admit it to Cousin Sophia, I do not like the +situation on the eastern front." + +Nobody else liked it either; but all summer the Russian retreat went +on--a long-drawn-out agony. + +"I wonder if I shall ever again be able to await the coming of the mail +with feelings of composure--never to speak of pleasure," said Gertrude +Oliver. "The thought that haunts me night and day is--will the Germans +smash Russia completely and then hurl their eastern army, flushed with +victory, against the western front?" + +"They will not, Miss Oliver dear," said Susan, assuming the role of +prophetess. + +"In the first place, the Almighty will not allow it, in the second, +Grand Duke Nicholas, though he may have been a disappointment to us in +some respects, knows how to run away decently and in order, and that is +a very useful knowledge when Germans are chasing you. Norman Douglas +declares he is just luring them on and killing ten of them to one he +loses. But I am of the opinion he cannot help himself and is just doing +the best he can under the circumstances, the same as the rest of us. So +do not go so far afield to borrow trouble, Miss Oliver dear, when there +is plenty of it already camping on our very doorstep." + +Walter had gone to Kingsport the first of June. Nan, Di and Faith had +gone also to do Red Cross work in their vacation. In mid-July Walter +came home for a week's leave before going overseas. Rilla had lived +through the days of his absence on the hope of that week, and now that +it had come she drank every minute of it thirstily, hating even the +hours she had to spend in sleep, they seemed such a waste of precious +moments. In spite of its sadness, it was a beautiful week, full of +poignant, unforgettable hours, when she and Walter had long walks and +talks and silences together. He was all her own and she knew that he +found strength and comfort in her sympathy and understanding. It was +very wonderful to know she meant so much to him--the knowledge helped +her through moments that would otherwise have been unendurable, and +gave her power to smile--and even to laugh a little. When Walter had +gone she might indulge in the comfort of tears, but not while he was +here. She would not even let herself cry at night, lest her eyes should +betray her to him in the morning. + +On his last evening at home they went together to Rainbow Valley and +sat down on the bank of the brook, under the White Lady, where the gay +revels of olden days had been held in the cloudless years. Rainbow +Valley was roofed over with a sunset of unusual splendour that night; a +wonderful grey dusk just touched with starlight followed it; and then +came moonshine, hinting, hiding, revealing, lighting up little dells +and hollows here, leaving others in dark, velvet shadow. + +"When I am 'somewhere in France,'" said Walter, looking around him with +eager eyes on all the beauty his soul loved, "I shall remember these +still, dewy, moon-drenched places. The balsam of the fir-trees; the +peace of those white pools of moonshine; the 'strength of the +hills'--what a beautiful old Biblical phrase that is. Rilla! Look at +those old hills around us--the hills we looked up at as children, +wondering what lay for us in the great world beyond them. How calm and +strong they are--how patient and changeless--like the heart of a good +woman. Rilla-my-Rilla, do you know what you have been to me the past +year? I want to tell you before I go. I could not have lived through it +if it had not been for you, little loving, believing heart." + +Rilla dared not try to speak. She slipped her hand into Walter's and +pressed it hard. + +"And when I'm over there, Rilla, in that hell upon earth which men who +have forgotten God have made, it will be the thought of you that will +help me most. I know you'll be as plucky and patient as you have shown +yourself to be this past year--I'm not afraid for you. I know that no +matter what happens, you'll be Rilla-my-Rilla--no matter what happens." + +Rilla repressed tear and sigh, but she could not repress a little +shiver, and Walter knew that he had said enough. After a moment of +silence, in which each made an unworded promise to each other, he said, +"Now we won't be sober any more. We'll look beyond the years--to the +time when the war will be over and Jem and Jerry and I will come +marching home and we'll all be happy again." + +"We won't be--happy--in the same way," said Rilla. + +"No, not in the same way. Nobody whom this war has touched will ever be +happy again in quite the same way. But it will be a better happiness, I +think, little sister--a happiness we've earned. We were very happy +before the war, weren't we? With a home like Ingleside, and a father +and mother like ours we couldn't help being happy. But that happiness +was a gift from life and love; it wasn't really ours--life could take +it back at any time. It can never take away the happiness we win for +ourselves in the way of duty. I've realised that since I went into +khaki. In spite of my occasional funks, when I fall to living over +things beforehand, I've been happy since that night in May. Rilla, be +awfully good to mother while I'm away. It must be a horrible thing to +be a mother in this war--the mothers and sisters and wives and +sweethearts have the hardest times. Rilla, you beautiful little thing, +are you anybody's sweetheart? If you are, tell me before I go." + +"No," said Rilla. Then, impelled by a wish to be absolutely frank with +Walter in this talk that might be the last they would ever have, she +added, blushing wildly in the moonlight, "but if--Kenneth Ford--wanted +me to be--" + +"I see," said Walter. "And Ken's in khaki, too. Poor little girlie, +it's a bit hard for you all round. Well, I'm not leaving any girl to +break her heart about me--thank God for that." + +Rilla glanced up at the Manse on the hill. She could see a light in Una +Meredith's window. She felt tempted to say something--then she knew she +must not. It was not her secret: and, anyway, she did not know--she +only suspected. + +Walter looked about him lingeringly and lovingly. This spot had always +been so dear to him. What fun they all had had here lang syne. Phantoms +of memory seemed to pace the dappled paths and peep merrily through the +swinging boughs--Jem and Jerry, bare-legged, sunburned schoolboys, +fishing in the brook and frying trout over the old stone fireplace; Nan +and Di and Faith, in their dimpled, fresh-eyed childish beauty; Una the +sweet and shy, Carl, poring over ants and bugs, little slangy, +sharp-tongued, good-hearted Mary Vance--the old Walter that had been +himself lying on the grass reading poetry or wandering through palaces +of fancy. They were all there around him--he could see them almost as +plainly as he saw Rilla--as plainly as he had once seen the Pied Piper +piping down the valley in a vanished twilight. And they said to him, +those gay little ghosts of other days, "We were the children of +yesterday, Walter--fight a good fight for the children of to-day and +to-morrow." + +"Where are you, Walter," cried Rilla, laughing a little. "Come +back--come back." + +Walter came back with a long breath. He stood up and looked about him +at the beautiful valley of moonlight, as if to impress on his mind and +heart every charm it possessed--the great dark plumes of the firs +against the silvery sky, the stately White Lady, the old magic of the +dancing brook, the faithful Tree Lovers, the beckoning, tricksy paths. + +"I shall see it so in my dreams," he said, as he turned away. + +They went back to Ingleside. Mr. and Mrs. Meredith were there, with +Gertrude Oliver, who had come from Lowbridge to say good-bye. Everybody +was quite cheerful and bright, but nobody said much about the war being +soon over, as they had said when Jem went away. They did not talk about +the war at all--and they thought of nothing else. At last they gathered +around the piano and sang the grand old hymn: + + "Oh God, our help in ages past + Our hope for years to come. + Our shelter from the stormy blast + And our eternal home." + +"We all come back to God in these days of soul-sifting," said Gertrude +to John Meredith. "There have been many days in the past when I didn't +believe in God--not as God--only as the impersonal Great First Cause of +the scientists. I believe in Him now--I have to--there's nothing else +to fall back on but God--humbly, starkly, unconditionally." + +"'Our help in ages past'--'the same yesterday, to-day and for ever,'" +said the minister gently. "When we forget God--He remembers us." + +There was no crowd at the Glen Station the next morning to see Walter +off. It was becoming a commonplace for a khaki clad boy to board that +early morning train after his last leave. Besides his own, only the +Manse folk were there, and Mary Vance. Mary had sent her Miller off the +week before, with a determined grin, and now considered herself +entitled to give expert opinion on how such partings should be +conducted. + +"The main thing is to smile and act as if nothing was happening," she +informed the Ingleside group. "The boys all hate the sob act like +poison. Miller told me I wasn't to come near the station if I couldn't +keep from bawling. So I got through with my crying beforehand, and at +the last I said to him, 'Good luck, Miller, and if you come back you'll +find I haven't changed any, and if you don't come back I'll always be +proud you went, and in any case don't fall in love with a French girl.' +Miller swore he wouldn't, but you never can tell about those +fascinating foreign hussies. Anyhow, the last sight he had of me I was +smiling to my limit. Gee, all the rest of the day my face felt as if it +had been starched and ironed into a smile." + +In spite of Mary's advice and example Mrs. Blythe, who had sent Jem off +with a smile, could not quite manage one for Walter. But at least no +one cried. Dog Monday came out of his lair in the shipping-shed and sat +down close to Walter, thumping his tail vigorously on the boards of the +platform whenever Walter spoke to him, and looking up with confident +eyes, as if to say, "I know you'll find Jem and bring him back to me." + +"So long, old fellow," said Carl Meredith cheerfully, when the +good-byes had to be said. "Tell them over there to keep their spirits +up--I am coming along presently." + +"Me too," said Shirley laconically, proffering a brown paw. Susan heard +him and her face turned very grey. + +Una shook hands quietly, looking at him with wistful, sorrowful, +dark-blue eyes. But then Una's eyes had always been wistful. Walter +bent his handsome black head in its khaki cap and kissed her with the +warm, comradely kiss of a brother. He had never kissed her before, and +for a fleeting moment Una's face betrayed her, if anyone had noticed. +But nobody did; the conductor was shouting "all aboard"; everybody was +trying to look very cheerful. Walter turned to Rilla; she held his +hands and looked up at him. She would not see him again until the day +broke and the shadows vanished--and she knew not if that daybreak would +be on this side of the grave or beyond it. + +"Good-bye," she said. + +On her lips it lost all the bitterness it had won through the ages of +parting and bore instead all the sweetness of the old loves of all the +women who had ever loved and prayed for the beloved. + +"Write me often and bring Jims up faithfully, according to the gospel +of Morgan," Walter said lightly, having said all his serious things the +night before in Rainbow Valley. But at the last moment he took her face +between his hands and looked deep into her gallant eyes. "God bless +you, Rilla-my-Rilla," he said softly and tenderly. After all it was not +a hard thing to fight for a land that bore daughters like this. + +He stood on the rear platform and waved to them as the train pulled +out. Rilla was standing by herself, but Una Meredith came to her and +the two girls who loved him most stood together and held each other's +cold hands as the train rounded the curve of the wooded hill. + +Rilla spent an hour in Rainbow Valley that morning about which she +never said a word to anyone; she did not even write in her diary about +it; when it was over she went home and made rompers for Jims. In the +evening she went to a Junior Red Cross committee meeting and was +severely businesslike. + +"You would never suppose," said Irene Howard to Olive Kirk afterwards, +"that Walter had left for the front only this morning. But some people +really have no depth of feeling. I often wish I could take things as +lightly as Rilla Blythe." + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +REALISM AND ROMANCE + +"Warsaw has fallen," said Dr. Blythe with a resigned air, as he brought +the mail in one warm August day. + +Gertrude and Mrs. Blythe looked dismally at each other, and Rilla, who +was feeding Jims a Morganized diet from a carefully sterilized spoon, +laid the said spoon down on his tray, utterly regardless of germs, and +said, "Oh, dear me," in as tragic a tone as if the news had come as a +thunderbolt instead of being a foregone conclusion from the preceding +week's dispatches. They had thought they were quite resigned to +Warsaw's fall but now they knew they had, as always, hoped against hope. + +"Now, let us take a brace," said Susan. "It is not the terrible thing +we have been thinking. I read a dispatch three columns long in the +Montreal Herald yesterday that proved that Warsaw was not important +from a military point of view at all. So let us take the military point +of view, doctor dear." + +"I read that dispatch, too, and it has encouraged me immensely," said +Gertrude. "I knew then and I know now that it was a lie from beginning +to end. But I am in that state of mind where even a lie is a comfort, +providing it is a cheerful lie." + +"In that case, Miss Oliver dear, the German official reports ought to +be all you need," said Susan sarcastically. "I never read them now +because they make me so mad I cannot put my thoughts properly on my +work after a dose of them. Even this news about Warsaw has taken the +edge off my afternoon's plans. Misfortunes never come singly. I spoiled +my baking of bread today--and now Warsaw has fallen--and here is little +Kitchener bent on choking himself to death." + +Jims was evidently trying to swallow his spoon, germs and all. Rilla +rescued him mechanically and was about to resume the operation of +feeding him when a casual remark of her father's sent such a shock and +thrill over her that for the second time she dropped that doomed spoon. + +"Kenneth Ford is down at Martin West's over-harbour," the doctor was +saying. "His regiment was on its way to the front but was held up in +Kingsport for some reason, and Ken got leave of absence to come over to +the Island." + +"I hope he will come up to see us," exclaimed Mrs. Blythe. + +"He only has a day or two off, I believe," said the doctor absently. + +Nobody noticed Rilla's flushed face and trembling hands. Even the most +thoughtful and watchful of parents do not see everything that goes on +under their very noses. Rilla made a third attempt to give the +long-suffering Jims his dinner, but all she could think of was the +question--Would Ken come to see her before he went away? She had not +heard from him for a long while. Had he forgotten her completely? If he +did not come she would know that he had. Perhaps there was even--some +other girl back there in Toronto. Of course there was. She was a little +fool to be thinking about him at all. She would not think about him. If +he came, well and good. It would only be courteous of him to make a +farewell call at Ingleside where he had often been a guest. If he did +not come--well and good, too. It did not matter very much. Nobody was +going to fret. That was all settled comfortably--she was quite +indifferent--but meanwhile Jims was being fed with a haste and +recklessness that would have filled the soul of Morgan with horror. +Jims himself didn't like it, being a methodical baby, accustomed to +swallowing spoonfuls with a decent interval for breath between each. He +protested, but his protests availed him nothing. Rilla, as far as the +care and feeding of infants was concerned, was utterly demoralized. + +Then the telephone-bell rang. There was nothing unusual about the +telephone ringing. It rang on an average every ten minutes at +Ingleside. But Rilla dropped Jims' spoon again--on the carpet this +time--and flew to the 'phone as if life depended on her getting there +before anybody else. Jims, his patience exhausted, lifted up his voice +and wept. + +"Hello, is this Ingleside?" + +"Yes." + +"That you, Rilla?" "Yeth--yeth." Oh, why couldn't Jims stop howling for +just one little minute? Why didn't somebody come in and choke him? + +"Know who's speaking?" + +Oh, didn't she know! Wouldn't she know that voice anywhere--at any time? + +"It's Ken--isn't it?" + +"Sure thing. I'm here for a look-in. Can I come up to Ingleside tonight +and see you?" + +"Of courthe." + +Had he used "you" in the singular or plural sense? Presently she would +wring Jims' neck--oh, what was Ken saying? + +"See here, Rilla, can you arrange that there won't be more than a few +dozen people round? Understand? I can't make my meaning clearer over +this bally rural line. There are a dozen receivers down." + +Did she understand! Yes, she understood. + +"I'll try," she said. + +"I'll be up about eight then. By-by." + +Rilla hung up the 'phone and flew to Jims. But she did not wring that +injured infant's neck. Instead she snatched him bodily out of his +chair, crushed him against her face, kissed him rapturously on his +milky mouth, and danced wildly around the room with him in her arms. +After this Jims was relieved to find that she returned to sanity, gave +him the rest of his dinner properly, and tucked him away for his +afternoon nap with the little lullaby he loved best of all. She sewed +at Red Cross shirts for the rest of the afternoon and built a crystal +castle of dreams, all a-quiver with rainbows. Ken wanted to see her--to +see her alone. That could be easily managed. Shirley wouldn't bother +them, father and mother were going to the Manse, Miss Oliver never +played gooseberry, and Jims always slept the clock round from seven to +seven. She would entertain Ken on the veranda--it would be +moonlight--she would wear her white georgette dress and do her hair +up--yes, she would--at least in a low knot at the nape of her neck. +Mother couldn't object to that, surely. Oh, how wonderful and romantic +it would be! Would Ken say anything--he must mean to say something or +why should he be so particular about seeing her alone? What if it +rained--Susan had been complaining about Mr. Hyde that morning! What if +some officious Junior Red called to discuss Belgians and shirts? Or, +worst of all, what if Fred Arnold dropped in? He did occasionally. + +The evening came at last and was all that could be desired in an +evening. The doctor and his wife went to the Manse, Shirley and Miss +Oliver went they alone knew where, Susan went to the store for +household supplies, and Jims went to Dreamland. Rilla put on her +georgette gown, knotted up her hair and bound a little double string of +pearls around it. Then she tucked a cluster of pale pink baby roses at +her belt. Would Ken ask her for a rose for a keepsake? She knew that +Jem had carried to the trenches in Flanders a faded rose that Faith +Meredith had kissed and given him the night before he left. + +Rilla looked very sweet when she met Ken in the mingled moonlight and +vine shadows of the big veranda. The hand she gave him was cold and she +was so desperately anxious not to lisp that her greeting was prim and +precise. How handsome and tall Kenneth looked in his lieutenant's +uniform! It made him seem older, too--so much so that Rilla felt rather +foolish. Hadn't it been the height of absurdity for her to suppose that +this splendid young officer had anything special to say to her, little +Rilla Blythe of Glen St. Mary? Likely she hadn't understood him after +all--he had only meant that he didn't want a mob of folks around making +a fuss over him and trying to lionize him, as they had probably done +over-harbour. Yes, of course, that was all he meant--and she, little +idiot, had gone and vainly imagined that he didn't want anybody but +her. And he would think she had manoeuvred everybody away so that they +could be alone together, and he would laugh to himself at her. + +"This is better luck than I hoped for," said Ken, leaning back in his +chair and looking at her with very unconcealed admiration in his +eloquent eyes. "I was sure someone would be hanging about and it was +just you I wanted to see, Rilla-my-Rilla." + +Rilla's dream castle flashed into the landscape again. This was +unmistakable enough certainly--not much doubt as to his meaning here. + +"There aren't--so many of us--to poke around as there used to be," she +said softly. + +"No, that's so," said Ken gently. "Jem and Walter and the girls +away--it makes a big blank, doesn't it? But--" he leaned forward until +his dark curls almost brushed her hair--"doesn't Fred Arnold try to +fill the blank occasionally. I've been told so." + +At this moment, before Rilla could make any reply, Jims began to cry at +the top of his voice in the room whose open window was just above +them--Jims, who hardly ever cried in the evening. Moreover, he was +crying, as Rilla knew from experience, with a vim and energy that +betokened that he had been already whimpering softly unheard for some +time and was thoroughly exasperated. When Jims started in crying like +that he made a thorough job of it. Rilla knew that there was no use to +sit still and pretend to ignore him. He wouldn't stop; and conversation +of any kind was out of the question when such shrieks and howls were +floating over your head. Besides, she was afraid Kenneth would think +she was utterly unfeeling if she sat still and let a baby cry like +that. He was not likely acquainted with Morgan's invaluable volume. + +She got up. "Jims has had a nightmare, I think. He sometimes has one +and he is always badly frightened by it. Excuse me for a moment." + +Rilla flew upstairs, wishing quite frankly that soup tureens had never +been invented. But when Jims, at sight of her, lifted his little arms +entreatingly and swallowed several sobs, with tears rolling down his +cheeks, resentment went out of her heart. After all, the poor darling +was frightened. She picked him up gently and rocked him soothingly +until his sobs ceased and his eyes closed. Then she essayed to lay him +down in his crib. Jims opened his eyes and shrieked a protest. This +performance was repeated twice. Rilla grew desperate. She couldn't +leave Ken down there alone any longer--she had been away nearly half an +hour already. With a resigned air she marched downstairs, carrying +Jims, and sat down on the veranda. It was, no doubt, a ridiculous thing +to sit and cuddle a contrary war-baby when your best young man was +making his farewell call, but there was nothing else to be done. + +Jims was supremely happy. He kicked his little pink-soled feet +rapturously out under his white nighty and gave one of his rare laughs. +He was beginning to be a very pretty baby; his golden hair curled in +silken ringlets all over his little round head and his eyes were +beautiful. + +"He's a decorative kiddy all right, isn't he?" said Ken. + +"His looks are very well," said Rilla, bitterly, as if to imply that +they were much the best of him. Jims, being an astute infant, sensed +trouble in the atmosphere and realized that it was up to him to clear +it away. He turned his face up to Rilla, smiled adorably and said, +clearly and beguilingly, "Will--Will." + +It was the very first time he had spoken a word or tried to speak. +Rilla was so delighted that she forgot her grudge against him. She +forgave him with a hug and kiss. Jims, understanding that he was +restored to favour, cuddled down against her just where a gleam of +light from the lamp in the living-room struck across his hair and +turned it into a halo of gold against her breast. + +Kenneth sat very still and silent, looking at Rilla--at the delicate, +girlish silhouette of her, her long lashes, her dented lip, her +adorable chin. In the dim moonlight, as she sat with her head bent a +little over Jims, the lamplight glinting on her pearls until they +glistened like a slender nimbus, he thought she looked exactly like the +Madonna that hung over his mother's desk at home. He carried that +picture of her in his heart to the horror of the battlefields of +France. He had had a strong fancy for Rilla Blythe ever since the night +of the Four Winds dance; but it was when he saw her there, with little +Jims in her arms, that he loved her and realized it. And all the while, +poor Rilla was sitting, disappointed and humiliated, feeling that her +last evening with Ken was spoiled and wondering why things always had +to go so contrarily outside of books. She felt too absurd to try to +talk. Evidently Ken was completely disgusted, too, since he was sitting +there in such stony silence. + +Hope revived momentarily when Jims went so thoroughly asleep that she +thought it would be safe to lay him down on the couch in the +living-room. But when she came out again Susan was sitting on the +veranda, loosening her bonnet strings with the air of one who meant to +stay where she was for some time. + +"Have you got your baby to sleep?" she asked kindly. + +Your baby! Really, Susan might have more tact. + +"Yes," said Rilla shortly. + +Susan laid her parcels on the reed table, as one determined to do her +duty. She was very tired but she must help Rilla out. Here was Kenneth +Ford who had come to call on the family and they were all unfortunately +out, and "the poor child" had had to entertain him alone. But Susan had +come to her rescue--Susan would do her part no matter how tired she was. + +"Dear me, how you have grown up," she said, looking at Ken's six feet +of khaki uniform without the least awe. Susan had grown used to khaki +now, and at sixty-four even a lieutenant's uniform is just clothes and +nothing else. "It is an amazing thing how fast children do grow up. +Rilla here, now, is almost fifteen." + +"I'm going on seventeen, Susan," cried Rilla almost passionately. She +was a whole month past sixteen. It was intolerable of Susan. + +"It seems just the other day that you were all babies," said Susan, +ignoring Rilla's protest. "You were really the prettiest baby I ever +saw, Ken, though your mother had an awful time trying to cure you of +sucking your thumb. Do you remember the day I spanked you?" + +"No," said Ken. + +"Oh well, I suppose you would be too young--you were only about four +and you were here with your mother and you insisted on teasing Nan +until she cried. I had tried several ways of stopping you but none +availed, and I saw that a spanking was the only thing that would serve. +So I picked you up and laid you across my knee and lambasted you well. +You howled at the top of your voice but you left Nan alone after that." + +Rilla was writhing. Hadn't Susan any realization that she was +addressing an officer of the Canadian Army? Apparently she had not. Oh, +what would Ken think? "I suppose you do not remember the time your +mother spanked you either," continued Susan, who seemed to be bent on +reviving tender reminiscences that evening. "I shall never, no never, +forget it. She was up here one night with you when you were about +three, and you and Walter were playing out in the kitchen yard with a +kitten. I had a big puncheon of rainwater by the spout which I was +reserving for making soap. And you and Walter began quarrelling over +the kitten. Walter was at one side of the puncheon standing on a chair, +holding the kitten, and you were standing on a chair at the other side. +You leaned across that puncheon and grabbed the kitten and pulled. You +were always a great hand for taking what you wanted without too much +ceremony. Walter held on tight and the poor kitten yelled but you +dragged Walter and the kitten half over and then you both lost your +balance and tumbled into that puncheon, kitten and all. If I had not +been on the spot you would both have been drowned. I flew to the rescue +and hauled you all three out before much harm was done, and your +mother, who had seen it all from the upstairs window, came down and +picked you up, dripping as you were, and gave you a beautiful spanking. +Ah," said Susan with a sigh, "those were happy old days at Ingleside." + +"Must have been," said Ken. His voice sounded queer and stiff. Rilla +supposed he was hopelessly enraged. The truth was he dared not trust +his voice lest it betray his frantic desire to laugh. + +"Rilla here, now," said Susan, looking affectionately at that unhappy +damsel, "never was much spanked. She was a real well-behaved child for +the most part. But her father did spank her once. She got two bottles +of pills out of his office and dared Alice Clow to see which of them +could swallow all the pills first, and if her father had not happened +in the nick of time those two children would have been corpses by +night. As it was, they were both sick enough shortly after. But the +doctor spanked Rilla then and there and he made such a thorough job of +it that she never meddled with anything in his office afterwards. We +hear a great deal nowadays of something that is called 'moral +persuasion,' but in my opinion a good spanking and no nagging +afterwards is a much better thing." + +Rilla wondered viciously whether Susan meant to relate all the family +spankings. But Susan had finished with the subject and branched off to +another cheerful one. + +"I remember little Tod MacAllister over-harbour killed himself that +very way, eating up a whole box of fruitatives because he thought they +were candy. It was a very sad affair. He was," said Susan earnestly, +"the very cutest little corpse I ever laid my eyes on. It was very +careless of his mother to leave the fruitatives where he could get +them, but she was well-known to be a heedless creature. One day she +found a nest of five eggs as she was going across the fields to church +with a brand new blue silk dress on. So she put them in the pocket of +her petticoat and when she got to church she forgot all about them and +sat down on them and her dress was ruined, not to speak of the +petticoat. Let me see--would not Tod be some relation of yours? Your +great grandmother West was a MacAllister. Her brother Amos was a +MacDonaldite in religion. I am told he used to take the jerks something +fearful. But you look more like your great grandfather West than the +MacAllisters. He died of a paralytic stroke quite early in life." + +"Did you see anybody at the store?" asked Rilla desperately, in the +faint hope of directing Susan's conversation into more agreeable +channels. + +"Nobody except Mary Vance," said Susan, "and she was stepping round as +brisk as the Irishman's flea." + +What terrible similes Susan used! Would Kenneth think she acquired them +from the family! + +"To hear Mary talk about Miller Douglas you would think he was the only +Glen boy who had enlisted," Susan went on. "But of course she always +did brag and she has some good qualities I am willing to admit, though +I did not think so that time she chased Rilla here through the village +with a dried codfish till the poor child fell, heels over head, into +the puddle before Carter Flagg's store." + +Rilla went cold all over with wrath and shame. Were there any more +disgraceful scenes in her past that Susan could rake up? As for Ken, he +could have howled over Susan's speeches, but he would not so insult the +duenna of his lady, so he sat with a preternaturally solemn face which +seemed to poor Rilla a haughty and offended one. + +"I paid eleven cents for a bottle of ink tonight," complained Susan. +"Ink is twice as high as it was last year. Perhaps it is because +Woodrow Wilson has been writing so many notes. It must cost him +considerable. My cousin Sophia says Woodrow Wilson is not the man she +expected him to be--but then no man ever was. Being an old maid, I do +not know much about men and have never pretended to, but my cousin +Sophia is very hard on them, although she married two of them, which +you might think was a fair share. Albert Crawford's chimney blew down +in that big gale we had last week, and when Sophia heard the bricks +clattering on the roof she thought it was a Zeppelin raid and went into +hysterics. And Mrs. Albert Crawford says that of the two things she +would have preferred the Zeppelin raid." + +Rilla sat limply in her chair like one hypnotized. She knew Susan would +stop talking when she was ready to stop and that no earthly power could +make her stop any sooner. As a rule, she was very fond of Susan but +just now she hated her with a deadly hatred. It was ten o'clock. Ken +would soon have to go--the others would soon be home--and she had not +even had a chance to explain to Ken that Fred Arnold filled no blank in +her life nor ever could. Her rainbow castle lay in ruins round her. + +Kenneth got up at last. He realized that Susan was there to stay as +long as he did, and it was a three mile walk to Martin West's +over-harbour. He wondered if Rilla had put Susan up to this, not +wanting to be left alone with him, lest he say something Fred Arnold's +sweetheart did not want to hear. Rilla got up, too, and walked silently +the length of the veranda with him. They stood there for a moment, Ken +on the lower step. The step was half sunk into the earth and mint grew +thickly about and over its edge. Often crushed by so many passing feet +it gave out its essence freely, and the spicy odour hung round them +like a soundless, invisible benediction. Ken looked up at Rilla, whose +hair was shining in the moonlight and whose eyes were pools of +allurement. All at once he felt sure there was nothing in that gossip +about Fred Arnold. + +"Rilla," he said in a sudden, intense whisper, "you are the sweetest +thing." + +Rilla flushed and looked at Susan. Ken looked, too, and saw that +Susan's back was turned. He put his arm about Rilla and kissed her. It +was the first time Rilla had ever been kissed. She thought perhaps she +ought to resent it but she didn't. Instead, she glanced timidly into +Kenneth's seeking eyes and her glance was a kiss. + +"Rilla-my-Rilla," said Ken, "will you promise that you won't let anyone +else kiss you until I come back?" + +"Yes," said Rilla, trembling and thrilling. + +Susan was turning round. Ken loosened his hold and stepped to the walk. + +"Good-bye," he said casually. Rilla heard herself saying it just as +casually. She stood and watched him down the walk, out of the gate, and +down the road. When the fir wood hid him from her sight she suddenly +said "Oh," in a choked way and ran down to the gate, sweet blossomy +things catching at her skirts as she ran. Leaning over the gate she saw +Kenneth walking briskly down the road, over the bars of tree shadows +and moonlight, his tall, erect figure grey in the white radiance. As he +reached the turn he stopped and looked back and saw her standing amid +the tall white lilies by the gate. He waved his hand--she waved +hers--he was gone around the turn. + +Rilla stood there for a little while, gazing across the fields of mist +and silver. She had heard her mother say that she loved turns in +roads--they were so provocative and alluring. Rilla thought she hated +them. She had seen Jem and Jerry vanish from her around a bend in the +road--then Walter--and now Ken. Brothers and playmate and +sweetheart--they were all gone, never, it might be, to return. Yet +still the Piper piped and the dance of death went on. + +When Rilla walked slowly back to the house Susan was still sitting by +the veranda table and Susan was sniffing suspiciously. + +"I have been thinking, Rilla dear, of the old days in the House of +Dreams, when Kenneth's mother and father were courting and Jem was a +little baby and you were not born or thought of. It was a very romantic +affair and she and your mother were such chums. To think I should have +lived to see her son going to the front. As if she had not had enough +trouble in her early life without this coming upon her! But we must +take a brace and see it through." + +All Rilla's anger against Susan had evaporated. With Ken's kiss still +burning on her lips, and the wonderful significance of the promise he +had asked thrilling heart and soul, she could not be angry with anyone. +She put her slim white hand into Susan's brown, work-hardened one and +gave it a squeeze. Susan was a faithful old dear and would lay down her +life for any one of them. + +"You are tired, Rilla dear, and had better go to bed," Susan said, +patting her hand. "I noticed you were too tired to talk tonight. I am +glad I came home in time to help you out. It is very tiresome trying to +entertain young men when you are not accustomed to it." + +Rilla carried Jims upstairs and went to bed, but not before she had sat +for a long time at her window reconstructing her rainbow castle, with +several added domes and turrets. + +"I wonder," she said to herself, "if I am, or am not, engaged to +Kenneth Ford." + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE WEEKS WEAR BY + +Rilla read her first love letter in her Rainbow Valley fir-shadowed +nook, and a girl's first love letter, whatever blase, older people may +think of it, is an event of tremendous importance in the teens. After +Kenneth's regiment had left Kingsport there came a fortnight of +dully-aching anxiety and when the congregation sang in Church on Sunday +evenings, + + "Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee + For those in peril on the sea," + +Rilla's voice always failed her; for with the words came a horribly +vivid mind picture of a submarined ship sinking beneath pitiless waves +amid the struggles and cries of drowning men. Then word came that +Kenneth's regiment had arrived safely in England; and now, at last, +here was his letter. It began with something that made Rilla supremely +happy for the moment and ended with a paragraph that crimsoned her +cheeks with the wonder and thrill and delight of it. Between beginning +and ending the letter was just such a jolly, newsy epistle as Ken might +have written to anyone; but for the sake of that beginning and ending +Rilla slept with the letter under her pillow for weeks, sometimes +waking in the night to slip her fingers under and just touch it, and +looked with secret pity on other girls whose sweethearts could never +have written them anything half so wonderful and exquisite. Kenneth was +not the son of a famous novelist for nothing. He "had a way" of +expressing things in a few poignant, significant words that seemed to +suggest far more than they uttered, and never grew stale or flat or +foolish with ever so many scores of readings. Rilla went home from +Rainbow Valley as if she flew rather than walked. + +But such moments of uplift were rare that autumn. To be sure, there was +one day in September when great news came of a big Allied victory in +the west and Susan ran out to hoist the flag--the first time she had +hoisted it since the Russian line broke and the last time she was to +hoist it for many dismal moons. + +"Likely the Big Push has begun at last, Mrs. Dr. dear," she exclaimed, +"and we will soon see the finish of the Huns. Our boys will be home by +Christmas now. Hurrah!" + +Susan was ashamed of herself for hurrahing the minute she had done it, +and apologized meekly for such an outburst of juvenility. "But indeed, +Mrs. Dr. dear, this good news has gone to my head after this awful +summer of Russian slumps and Gallipoli setbacks." + +"Good news!" said Miss Oliver bitterly. "I wonder if the women whose +men have been killed for it will call it good news. Just because our +own men are not on that part of the front we are rejoicing as if the +victory had cost no lives." + +"Now, Miss Oliver dear, do not take that view of it," deprecated Susan. +"We have not had much to rejoice over of late and yet men were being +killed just the same. Do not let yourself slump like poor Cousin +Sophia. She said, when the word came, 'Ah, it is nothing but a rift in +the clouds. We are up this week but we will be down the next.' 'Well, +Sophia Crawford,' said I,--for I will never give in to her, Mrs. Dr. +dear--'God himself cannot make two hills without a hollow between them, +as I have heard it said, but that is no reason why we should not take +the good of the hills when we are on them.' But Cousin Sophia moaned +on. 'Here is the Gallipolly expedition a failure and the Grand Duke +Nicholas sent off, and everyone knows the Czar of Rooshia is a +pro-German and the Allies have no ammunition and Bulgaria is going +against us. And the end is not yet, for England and France must be +punished for their deadly sins until they repent in sackcloth and +ashes.' 'I think myself,' I said, 'that they will do their repenting in +khaki and trench mud, and it seems to me that the Huns should have a +few sins to repent of also.' 'They are instruments in the hands of the +Almighty, to purge the garner,' said Sophia. And then I got mad, Mrs. +Dr. dear, and told her I did not and never would believe that the +Almighty ever took such dirty instruments in hand for any purpose +whatever, and that I did not consider it decent for her to be using the +words of Holy Writ as glibly as she was doing in ordinary conversation. +She was not, I told her, a minister or even an elder. And for the time +being I squelched her, Mrs. Dr. dear. Cousin Sophia has no spirit. She +is very different from her niece, Mrs. Dean Crawford over-harbour. You +know the Dean Crawfords had five boys and now the new baby is another +boy. All the connection and especially Dean Crawford were much +disappointed because their hearts had been set on a girl; but Mrs. Dean +just laughed and said, 'Everywhere I went this summer I saw the sign +"MEN WANTED" staring me in the face. Do you think I could go and have a +girl under such circumstances?' There is spirit for you, Mrs. Dr. dear. +But Cousin Sophia would say the child was just so much more cannon +fodder." + +Cousin Sophia had full range for her pessimism that gloomy autumn, and +even Susan, incorrigible old optimist as she was, was hard put to it +for cheer. When Bulgaria lined up with Germany Susan only remarked +scornfully, "One more nation anxious for a licking," but the Greek +tangle worried her beyond her powers of philosophy to endure calmly. + +"Constantine of Greece has a German wife, Mrs. Dr. dear, and that fact +squelches hope. To think that I should have lived to care what kind of +a wife Constantine of Greece had! The miserable creature is under his +wife's thumb and that is a bad place for any man to be. I am an old +maid and an old maid has to be independent or she will be squashed out. +But if I had been a married woman, Mrs. Dr. dear, I would have been +meek and humble. It is my opinion that this Sophia of Greece is a minx." + +Susan was furious when the news came that Venizelos had met with +defeat. "I could spank Constantine and skin him alive afterwards, that +I could," she exclaimed bitterly. + +"Oh, Susan, I'm surprised at you," said the doctor, pulling a long +face. "Have you no regard for the proprieties? Skin him alive by all +means but omit the spanking." + +"If he had been well spanked in his younger days he might have more +sense now," retorted Susan. "But I suppose princes are never spanked, +more is the pity. I see the Allies have sent him an ultimatum. I could +tell them that it will take more than ultimatums to skin a snake like +Constantine. Perhaps the Allied blockade will hammer sense into his +head; but that will take some time I am thinking, and in the meantime +what is to become of poor Serbia?" + +They saw what became of Serbia, and during the process Susan was hardly +to be lived with. In her exasperation she abused everything and +everybody except Kitchener, and she fell upon poor President Wilson +tooth and claw. + +"If he had done his duty and gone into the war long ago we should not +have seen this mess in Serbia," she avowed. + +"It would be a serious thing to plunge a great country like the United +States, with its mixed population, into the war, Susan," said the +doctor, who sometimes came to the defence of the President, not because +he thought Wilson needed it especially, but from an unholy love of +baiting Susan. + +"Maybe, doctor dear--maybe! But that makes me think of the old story of +the girl who told her grandmother she was going to be married. 'It is a +solemn thing to be married,' said the old lady. 'Yes, but it is a +solemner thing not to be,' said the girl. And I can testify to that out +of my own experience, doctor dear. And I think it is a solemner thing +for the Yankees that they have kept out of the war than it would have +been if they had gone into it. However, though I do not know much about +them, I am of the opinion that we will see them starting something yet, +Woodrow Wilson or no Woodrow Wilson, when they get it into their heads +that this war is not a correspondence school. They will not," said +Susan, energetically waving a saucepan with one hand and a soup ladle +with the other, "be too proud to fight then." + +On a pale-yellow, windy evening in October Carl Meredith went away. He +had enlisted on his eighteenth birthday. John Meredith saw him off with +a set face. His two boys were gone--there was only little Bruce left +now. He loved Bruce and Bruce's mother dearly; but Jerry and Carl were +the sons of the bride of his youth and Carl was the only one of all his +children who had Cecilia's very eyes. As they looked lovingly out at +him above Carl's uniform the pale minister suddenly remembered the day +when for the first and last time he had tried to whip Carl for his +prank with the eel. That was the first time he had realised how much +Carl's eyes were like Cecilia's. Now he realised it again once more. +Would he ever again see his dead wife's eyes looking at him from his +son's face? What a bonny, clean, handsome lad he was! It was--hard--to +see him go. John Meredith seemed to be looking at a torn plain strewed +with the bodies of "able-bodied men between the ages of eighteen and +forty-five." Only the other day Carl had been a little scrap of a boy, +hunting bugs in Rainbow Valley, taking lizards to bed with him, and +scandalizing the Glen by carrying frogs to Sunday School. It seemed +hardly--right--somehow that he should be an "able-bodied man" in khaki. +Yet John Meredith had said no word to dissuade him when Carl had told +him he must go. + +Rilla felt Carl's going keenly. They had always been cronies and +playmates. He was only a little older than she was and they had been +children in Rainbow Valley together. She recalled all their old pranks +and escapades as she walked slowly home alone. The full moon peeped +through the scudding clouds with sudden floods of weird illumination, +the telephone wires sang a shrill weird song in the wind, and the tall +spikes of withered, grey-headed golden-rod in the fence corners swayed +and beckoned wildly to her like groups of old witches weaving unholy +spells. On such a night as this, long ago, Carl would come over to +Ingleside and whistle her out to the gate. "Let's go on a moon-spree, +Rilla," he would say, and the two of them would scamper off to Rainbow +Valley. Rilla had never been afraid of his beetles and bugs, though she +drew a hard and fast line at snakes. They used to talk together of +almost everything and were teased about each other at school; but one +evening when they were about ten years of age they had solemnly +promised, by the old spring in Rainbow Valley, that they would never +marry each other. Alice Clow had "crossed out" their names on her slate +in school that day, and it came out that "both married." They did not +like the idea at all, hence the mutual vow in Rainbow Valley. There was +nothing like an ounce of prevention. Rilla laughed over the old +memory--and then sighed. That very day a dispatch from some London +paper had contained the cheerful announcement that "the present moment +is the darkest since the war began." It was dark enough, and Rilla +wished desperately that she could do something besides waiting and +serving at home, as day after day the Glen boys she had known went +away. If she were only a boy, speeding in khaki by Carl's side to the +Western front! She had wished that in a burst of romance when Jem had +gone, without, perhaps, really meaning it. She meant it now. There were +moments when waiting at home, in safety and comfort, seemed an +unendurable thing. + +The moon burst triumphantly through an especially dark cloud and shadow +and silver chased each other in waves over the Glen. Rilla remembered +one moonlit evening of childhood when she had said to her mother, "The +moon just looks like a sorry, sorry face." She thought it looked like +that still--an agonised, care-worn face, as though it looked down on +dreadful sights. What did it see on the Western front? In broken +Serbia? On shell-swept Gallipoli? + +"I am tired," Miss Oliver had said that day, in a rare outburst of +impatience, "of this horrible rack of strained emotions, when every day +brings a new horror or the dread of it. No, don't look reproachfully at +me, Mrs. Blythe. There's nothing heroic about me today. I've slumped. I +wish England had left Belgium to her fate--I wish Canada had never sent +a man--I wish we'd tied our boys to our apron strings and not let one +of them go. Oh--I shall be ashamed of myself in half an hour--but at +this very minute I mean every word of it. Will the Allies never strike?" + +"Patience is a tired mare but she jogs on," said Susan. + +"While the steeds of Armageddon thunder, trampling over our hearts," +retorted Miss Oliver. "Susan, tell me--don't you ever--didn't you +ever--take spells of feeling that you must scream--or swear--or smash +something--just because your torture reaches a point when it becomes +unbearable?" + +"I have never sworn or desired to swear, Miss Oliver dear, but I will +admit," said Susan, with the air of one determined to make a clean +breast of it once and for all, "that I have experienced occasions when +it was a relief to do considerable banging." + +"Don't you think that is a kind of swearing, Susan? What is the +difference between slamming a door viciously and saying d----" + +"Miss Oliver dear," interrupted Susan, desperately determined to save +Gertrude from herself, if human power could do it, "you are all tired +out and unstrung--and no wonder, teaching those obstreperous youngsters +all day and coming home to bad war news. But just you go upstairs and +lie down and I will bring you up a cup of hot tea and a bite of toast +and very soon you will not want to slam doors or swear." + +"Susan, you're a good soul--a very pearl of Susans! But, Susan, it +would be such a relief--to say just one soft, low, little tiny d---" + +"I will bring you a hot-water bottle for the soles of your feet, also," +interposed Susan resolutely, "and it would not be any relief to say +that word you are thinking of, Miss Oliver, and that you may tie to." + +"Well, I'll try the hot-water bottle first," said Miss Oliver, +repenting herself on teasing Susan and vanishing upstairs, to Susan's +intense relief. Susan shook her head ominously as she filled the +hot-water bottle. The war was certainly relaxing the standards of +behaviour woefully. Here was Miss Oliver admittedly on the point of +profanity. + +"We must draw the blood from her brain," said Susan, "and if this +bottle is not effective I will see what can be done with a mustard +plaster." + +Gertrude rallied and carried on. Lord Kitchener went to Greece, whereat +Susan foretold that Constantine would soon experience a change of +heart. Lloyd George began to heckle the Allies regarding equipment and +guns and Susan said you would hear more of Lloyd George yet. The +gallant Anzacs withdrew from Gallipoli and Susan approved the step, +with reservations. The siege of Kut-El-Amara began and Susan pored over +maps of Mesopotamia and abused the Turks. Henry Ford started for Europe +and Susan flayed him with sarcasm. Sir John French was superseded by +Sir Douglas Haig and Susan dubiously opined that it was poor policy to +swap horses crossing a stream, "though, to be sure, Haig was a good +name and French had a foreign sound, say what you might." Not a move on +the great chess-board of king or bishop or pawn escaped Susan, who had +once read only Glen St. Mary notes. "There was a time," she said +sorrowfully, "when I did not care what happened outside of P.E. Island, +and now a king cannot have a toothache in Russia or China but it +worries me. It may be broadening to the mind, as the doctor said, but +it is very painful to the feelings." + +When Christmas came again Susan did not set any vacant places at the +festive board. Two empty chairs were too much even for Susan who had +thought in September that there would not be one. + +"This is the first Christmas that Walter was not home," Rilla wrote in +her diary that night. "Jem used to be away for Christmases up in +Avonlea, but Walter never was. I had letters from Ken and him today. +They are still in England but expect to be in the trenches very soon. +And then--but I suppose we'll be able to endure it somehow. To me, the +strangest of all the strange things since 1914 is how we have all +learned to accept things we never thought we could--to go on with life +as a matter of course. I know that Jem and Jerry are in the +trenches--that Ken and Walter will be soon--that if one of them does +not come back my heart will break--yet I go on and work and plan--yes, +and even enjoy life by times. There are moments when we have real fun +because, just for the moment, we don't think about things and then--we +remember--and the remembering is worse than thinking of it all the time +would have been. + +"Today was dark and cloudy and tonight is wild enough, as Gertrude +says, to please any novelist in search of suitable matter for a murder +or elopement. The raindrops streaming over the panes look like tears +running down a face, and the wind is shrieking through the maple grove. + +"This hasn't been a nice Christmas Day in any way. Nan had toothache +and Susan had red eyes, and assumed a weird and gruesome flippancy of +manner to deceive us into thinking she hadn't; and Jims had a bad cold +all day and I'm afraid of croup. He has had croup twice since October. +The first time I was nearly frightened to death, for father and mother +were both away--father always is away, it seems to me, when any of this +household gets sick. But Susan was cool as a fish and knew just what to +do, and by morning Jims was all right. That child is a cross between a +duck and an imp. He's a year and four months old, trots about +everywhere, and says quite a few words. He has the cutest little way of +calling me "Willa-will." It always brings back that dreadful, +ridiculous, delightful night when Ken came to say good-bye, and I was +so furious and happy. Jims is pink and white and big-eyed and +curly-haired and every now and then I discover a new dimple in him. I +can never quite believe he is really the same creature as that scrawny, +yellow, ugly little changeling I brought home in the soup tureen. +Nobody has ever heard a word from Jim Anderson. If he never comes back +I shall keep Jims always. Everybody here worships and spoils him--or +would spoil him if Morgan and I didn't stand remorselessly in the way. +Susan says Jims is the cleverest child she ever saw and can recognize +Old Nick when he sees him--this because Jims threw poor Doc out of an +upstairs window one day. Doc turned into Mr. Hyde on his way down and +landed in a currant bush, spitting and swearing. I tried to console his +inner cat with a saucer of milk but he would have none of it, and +remained Mr. Hyde the rest of the day. Jims's latest exploit was to +paint the cushion of the big arm-chair in the sun parlour with +molasses; and before anybody found it out Mrs. Fred Clow came in on Red +Cross business and sat down on it. Her new silk dress was ruined and +nobody could blame her for being vexed. But she went into one of her +tempers and said nasty things and gave me such slams about 'spoiling' +Jims that I nearly boiled over, too. But I kept the lid on till she had +waddled away and then I exploded. + +"'The fat, clumsy, horrid old thing,' I said--and oh, what a +satisfaction it was to say it. + +"'She has three sons at the front,' mother said rebukingly. + +"'I suppose that covers all her shortcomings in manners,' I retorted. +But I was ashamed--for it is true that all her boys have gone and she +was very plucky and loyal about it too; and she is a perfect tower of +strength in the Red Cross. It's a little hard to remember all the +heroines. Just the same, it was her second new silk dress in one year +and that when everybody is--or should be--trying to 'save and serve.' + +"I had to bring out my green velvet hat again lately and begin wearing +it. I hung on to my blue straw sailor as long as I could. How I hate +the green velvet hat! It is so elaborate and conspicuous. I don't see +how I could ever have liked it. But I vowed to wear it and wear it I +will. + +"Shirley and I went down to the station this morning to take Little Dog +Monday a bang-up Christmas dinner. Dog Monday waits and watches there +still, with just as much hope and confidence as ever. Sometimes he +hangs around the station house and talks to people and the rest of his +time he sits at his little kennel door and watches the track +unwinkingly. We never try to coax him home now: we know it is of no +use. When Jem comes back, Monday will come home with him; and if +Jem--never comes back--Monday will wait there for him as long as his +dear dog heart goes on beating. + +"Fred Arnold was here last night. He was eighteen in November and is +going to enlist just as soon as his mother is over an operation she has +to have. He has been coming here very often lately and though I like +him so much it makes me uncomfortable, because I am afraid he is +thinking that perhaps I could care something for him. I can't tell him +about Ken--because, after all, what is there to tell? And yet I don't +like to behave coldly and distantly when he will be going away so soon. +It is very perplexing. I remember I used to think it would be such fun +to have dozens of beaux--and now I'm worried to death because two are +too many. + +"I am learning to cook. Susan is teaching me. I tried to learn long +ago--but no, let me be honest--Susan tried to teach me, which is a very +different thing. I never seemed to succeed with anything and I got +discouraged. But since the boys have gone away I wanted to be able to +make cake and things for them myself and so I started in again and this +time I'm getting on surprisingly well. Susan says it is all in the way +I hold my mouth and father says my subconscious mind is desirous of +learning now, and I dare say they're both right. Anyhow, I can make +dandy short-bread and fruitcake. I got ambitious last week and +attempted cream puffs, but made an awful failure of them. They came out +of the oven flat as flukes. I thought maybe the cream would fill them +up again and make them plump but it didn't. I think Susan was secretly +pleased. She is past mistress in the art of making cream puffs and it +would break her heart if anyone else here could make them as well. I +wonder if Susan tampered--but no, I won't suspect her of such a thing. + +"Miranda Pryor spent an afternoon here a few days ago, helping me cut +out certain Red Cross garments known by the charming name of 'vermin +shirts.' Susan thinks that name is not quite decent, so I suggested she +call them 'cootie sarks,' which is old Highland Sandy's version of it. +But she shook her head and I heard her telling mother later that, in +her opinion, 'cooties' and 'sarks' were not proper subjects for young +girls to talk about. She was especially horrified when Jem wrote in his +last letter to mother, 'Tell Susan I had a fine cootie hunt this +morning and caught fifty-three!' Susan positively turned pea-green. +'Mrs. Dr. dear,' she said, 'when I was young, if decent people were so +unfortunate as to get--those insects--they kept it a secret if +possible. I do not want to be narrow-minded, Mrs. Dr. dear, but I still +think it is better not to mention such things.' + +"Miranda grew confidential over our vermin shirts and told me all her +troubles. She is desperately unhappy. She is engaged to Joe Milgrave +and Joe joined up in October and has been training in Charlottetown +ever since. Her father was furious when he joined and forbade Miranda +ever to have any dealing or communication with him again. Poor Joe +expects to go overseas any day and wants Miranda to marry him before he +goes, which shows that there have been 'communications' in spite of +Whiskers-on-the-moon. Miranda wants to marry him but cannot, and she +declares it will break her heart. + +"'Why don't you run away and marry him?' I said. It didn't go against +my conscience in the least to give her such advice. Joe Milgrave is a +splendid fellow and Mr. Pryor fairly beamed on him until the war broke +out and I know Mr. Pryor would forgive Miranda very quickly, once it +was over and he wanted his housekeeper back. But Miranda shook her +silvery head dolefully. + +"'Joe wants me to but I can't. Mother's last words to me, as she lay on +her dying-bed, were, "Never, never run away, Miranda," and I promised.' + +"Miranda's mother died two years ago, and it seems, according to +Miranda, that her mother and father actually ran away to be married +themselves. To picture Whiskers-on-the-moon as the hero of an elopement +is beyond my power. But such was the case and Mrs. Pryor at least lived +to repent it. She had a hard life of it with Mr. Pryor, and she thought +it was a punishment on her for running away. So she made Miranda +promise she would never, for any reason whatever, do it. + +"Of course, you cannot urge a girl to break a promise made to a dying +mother, so I did not see what Miranda could do unless she got Joe to +come to the house when her father was away and marry her there. But +Miranda said that couldn't be managed. Her father seemed to suspect she +might be up to something of the sort and he never went away for long at +a time, and, of course, Joe couldn't get leave of absence at an hour's +notice. + +"'No, I shall just have to let Joe go, and he will be killed--I know he +will be killed--and my heart will break,' said Miranda, her tears +running down and copiously bedewing the vermin shirts! + +"I am not writing like this for lack of any real sympathy with poor +Miranda. I've just got into the habit of giving things a comical twist +if I can, when I'm writing to Jem and Walter and Ken, to make them +laugh. I really felt sorry for Miranda who is as much in love with Joe +as a china-blue girl can be with anyone and who is dreadfully ashamed +of her father's pro-German sentiments. I think she understood that I +did, for she said she had wanted to tell me all about her worries +because I had grown so sympathetic this past year. I wonder if I have. +I know I used to be a selfish, thoughtless creature--how selfish and +thoughtless I am ashamed to remember now, so I can't be quite so bad as +I was. + +"I wish I could help Miranda. It would be very romantic to contrive a +war-wedding and I should dearly love to get the better of +Whiskers-on-the-moon. But at present the oracle has not spoken." + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +A WAR-WEDDING + +"I can tell you this Dr. dear," said Susan, pale with wrath, "that +Germany is getting to be perfectly ridiculous." + +They were all in the big Ingleside kitchen. Susan was mixing biscuits +for supper. Mrs. Blythe was making shortbread for Jem, and Rilla was +compounding candy for Ken and Walter--it had once been "Walter and Ken" +in her thoughts but somehow, quite unconsciously, this had changed +until Ken's name came naturally first. Cousin Sophia was also there, +knitting. All the boys were going to be killed in the long run, so +Cousin Sophia felt in her bones, but they might better die with warm +feet than cold ones, so Cousin Sophia knitted faithfully and gloomily. + +Into this peaceful scene erupted the doctor, wrathful and excited over +the burning of the Parliament Buildings in Ottawa. And Susan became +automatically quite as wrathful and excited. + +"What will those Huns do next?" she demanded. "Coming over here and +burning our Parliament building! Did anyone ever hear of such an +outrage?" + +"We don't know that the Germans are responsible for this," said the +doctor--much as if he felt quite sure they were. "Fires do start +without their agency sometimes. And Uncle Mark MacAllister's barn was +burnt last week. You can hardly accuse the Germans of that, Susan." + +"Indeed, Dr. dear, I do not know." Susan nodded slowly and +portentously. "Whiskers-on-the-moon was there that very day. The fire +broke out half an hour after he was gone. So much is a fact--but I +shall not accuse a Presbyterian elder of burning anybody's barn until I +have proof. However, everybody knows, Dr. dear, that both Uncle Mark's +boys have enlisted, and that Uncle Mark himself makes speeches at all +the recruiting meetings. So no doubt Germany is anxious to get square +with him." + +"I could never speak at a recruiting meeting," said Cousin Sophia +solemnly. "I could never reconcile it to my conscience to ask another +woman's son to go, to murder and be murdered." + +"Could you not?" said Susan. "Well, Sophia Crawford, I felt as if I +could ask anyone to go when I read last night that there were no +children under eight years of age left alive in Poland. Think of that, +Sophia Crawford"--Susan shook a floury finger at +Sophia--"not--one--child--under--eight--years--of--age!" + +"I suppose the Germans has et 'em all," sighed Cousin Sophia. + +"Well, no-o-o," said Susan reluctantly, as if she hated to admit that +there was any crime the Huns couldn't be accused of. "The Germans have +not turned cannibal yet--as far as I know. They have died of starvation +and exposure, the poor little creatures. There is murdering for you, +Cousin Sophia Crawford. The thought of it poisons every bite and sup I +take." + +"I see that Fred Carson of Lowbridge has been awarded a Distinguished +Conduct Medal," remarked the doctor, over his local paper. + +"I heard that last week," said Susan. "He is a battalion runner and he +did something extra brave and daring. His letter, telling his folks +about it, came when his old Grandmother Carson was on her dying-bed. +She had only a few minutes more to live and the Episcopal minister, who +was there, asked her if she would not like him to pray. 'Oh yes, yes, +you can pray,' she said impatient-like--she was a Dean, Dr. dear, and +the Deans were always high-spirited--'you can pray, but for pity's sake +pray low and don't disturb me. I want to think over this splendid news +and I have not much time left to do it.' That was Almira Carson all +over. Fred was the apple of her eye. She was seventy-five years of age +and had not a grey hair in her head, they tell me." + +"By the way, that reminds me--I found a grey hair this morning--my very +first," said Mrs. Blythe. + +"I have noticed that grey hair for some time, Mrs. Dr. dear, but I did +not speak of it. Thought I to myself, 'She has enough to bear.' But now +that you have discovered it let me remind you that grey hairs are +honourable." + +"I must be getting old, Gilbert." Mrs. Blythe laughed a trifle +ruefully. "People are beginning to tell me I look so young. They never +tell you that when you are young. But I shall not worry over my silver +thread. I never liked red hair. Gilbert, did I ever tell you of that +time, years ago at Green Gables, when I dyed my hair? Nobody but +Marilla and I knew about it." + +"Was that the reason you came out once with your hair shingled to the +bone?" + +"Yes. I bought a bottle of dye from a German Jew pedlar. I fondly +expected it would turn my hair black--and it turned it green. So it had +to be cut off." + +"You had a narrow escape, Mrs. Dr. dear," exclaimed Susan. "Of course +you were too young then to know what a German was. It was a special +mercy of Providence that it was only green dye and not poison." + +"It seems hundreds of years since those Green Gables days," sighed Mrs. +Blythe. "They belonged to another world altogether. Life has been cut +in two by the chasm of war. What is ahead I don't know--but it can't be +a bit like the past. I wonder if those of us who have lived half our +lives in the old world will ever feel wholly at home in the new." + +"Have you noticed," asked Miss Oliver, glancing up from her book, "how +everything written before the war seems so far away now, too? One feels +as if one was reading something as ancient as the Iliad. This poem of +Wordsworth's--the Senior class have it in their entrance work--I've +been glancing over it. Its classic calm and repose and the beauty of +the lines seem to belong to another planet, and to have as little to do +with the present world-welter as the evening star." + +"The only thing that I find much comfort in reading nowadays is the +Bible," remarked Susan, whisking her biscuits into the oven. "There are +so many passages in it that seem to me exactly descriptive of the Huns. +Old Highland Sandy declares that there is no doubt that the Kaiser is +the Anti-Christ spoken of in Revelations, but I do not go as far as +that. It would, in my humble opinion, Mrs. Dr. dear, be too great an +honour for him." + +Early one morning, several days later, Miranda Pryor slipped up to +Ingleside, ostensibly to get some Red Cross sewing, but in reality to +talk over with sympathetic Rilla troubles that were past bearing alone. +She brought her dog with her--an over-fed, bandy-legged little animal +very dear to her heart because Joe Milgrave had given it to her when it +was a puppy. Mr. Pryor regarded all dogs with disfavour; but in those +days he had looked kindly upon Joe as a suitor for Miranda's hand and +so he had allowed her to keep the puppy. Miranda was so grateful that +she endeavoured to please her father by naming her dog after his +political idol, the great Liberal chieftain, Sir Wilfrid +Laurier--though his title was soon abbreviated to Wilfy. Sir Wilfrid +grew and flourished and waxed fat; but Miranda spoiled him absurdly and +nobody else liked him. Rilla especially hated him because of his +detestable trick of lying flat on his back and entreating you with +waving paws to tickle his sleek stomach. When she saw that Miranda's +pale eyes bore unmistakable testimony of her having cried all night, +Rilla asked her to come up to her room, knowing Miranda had a tale of +woe to tell, but she ordered Sir Wilfrid to remain below. + +"Oh, can't he come, too?" said Miranda wistfully. "Poor Wilfy won't be +any bother--and I wiped his paws so carefully before I brought him in. +He is always so lonesome in a strange place without me--and very soon +he'll be--all--I'll have left--to remind me--of Joe." + +Rilla yielded, and Sir Wilfrid, with his tail curled at a saucy angle +over his brindled back, trotted triumphantly up the stairs before them. + +"Oh, Rilla," sobbed Miranda, when they had reached sanctuary. "I'm so +unhappy. I can't begin to tell you how unhappy I am. Truly, my heart is +breaking." + +Rilla sat down on the lounge beside her. Sir Wilfrid squatted on his +haunches before them, with his impertinent pink tongue stuck out, and +listened. "What is the trouble, Miranda?" + +"Joe is coming home tonight on his last leave. I had a letter from him +on Saturday--he sends my letters in care of Bob Crawford, you know, +because of father--and, oh, Rilla, he will only have four days--he has +to go away Friday morning--and I may never see him again." + +"Does he still want you to marry him?" asked Rilla. + +"Oh, yes. He implored me in his letter to run away and be married. But +I cannot do that, Rilla, not even for Joe. My only comfort is that I +will be able to see him for a little while tomorrow afternoon. Father +has to go to Charlottetown on business. At least we will have one good +farewell talk. But oh--afterwards--why, Rilla, I know father won't even +let me go to the station Friday morning to see Joe off." + +"Why in the world don't you and Joe get married tomorrow afternoon at +home?" demanded Rilla. + +Miranda swallowed a sob in such amazement that she almost choked. + +"Why--why--that is impossible, Rilla." + +"Why?" briefly demanded the organizer of the Junior Red Cross and the +transporter of babies in soup tureens. + +"Why--why--we never thought of such a thing--Joe hasn't a license--I +have no dress--I couldn't be married in black--I--I--we--you--you--" +Miranda lost herself altogether and Sir Wilfrid, seeing that she was in +dire distress threw back his head and emitted a melancholy yelp. + +Rilla Blythe thought hard and rapidly for a few minutes. Then she said, +"Miranda, if you will put yourself into my hands I'll have you married +to Joe before four o'clock tomorrow afternoon." + +"Oh, you couldn't." + +"I can and I will. But you'll have to do exactly as I tell you." + +"Oh--I--don't think--oh, father will kill me--" + +"Nonsense. He'll be very angry I suppose. But are you more afraid of +your father's anger than you are of Joe's never coming back to you?" + +"No," said Miranda, with sudden firmness, "I'm not." + +"Will you do as I tell you then?" + +"Yes, I will." + +"Then get Joe on the long-distance at once and tell him to bring out a +license and ring tonight." + +"Oh, I couldn't," wailed the aghast Miranda, "it--it would be so--so +indelicate." + +Rilla shut her little white teeth together with a snap. "Heaven grant +me patience," she said under her breath. "I'll do it then," she said +aloud, "and meanwhile, you go home and make what preparations you can. +When I 'phone down to you to come up and help me sew come at once." + +As soon as Miranda, pallid, scared, but desperately resolved, had gone, +Rilla flew to the telephone and put in a long-distance call for +Charlottetown. She got through with such surprising quickness that she +was convinced Providence approved of her undertaking, but it was a good +hour before she could get in touch with Joe Milgrave at his camp. +Meanwhile, she paced impatiently about, and prayed that when she did +get Joe there would be no listeners on the line to carry news to +Whiskers-on-the-moon. + +"Is that you, Joe? Rilla Blythe is speaking--Rilla--Rilla--oh, never +mind. Listen to this. Before you come home tonight get a marriage +license--a marriage license--yes, a marriage license--and a +wedding-ring. Did you get that? And will you do it? Very well, be sure +you do it--it is your only chance." + +Flushed with triumph--for her only fear was that she might not be able +to locate Joe in time--Rilla rang the Pryor ring. 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. And we must make other things +too. I'll help you in the morning. But I can't help you in the +afternoon for I have to make a wedding-dress and time is the essence of +the contract, Susan." + +Susan felt that she was really too old to be subjected to such shocks. + +"Who are you going to marry, Rilla?" she asked feebly. + +"Susan, darling, I am not the happy bride. Miranda Pryor is going to +marry Joe Milgrave tomorrow afternoon while her father is away in town. +A war-wedding, Susan--isn't that thrilling and romantic? I never was so +excited in my life." + +The excitement soon spread over Ingleside, infecting even Mrs. Blythe +and Susan. + +"I'll go to work on that cake at once," vowed Susan, with a glance at +the clock. "Mrs. Dr. dear, will you pick over the fruit and beat up the +eggs? If you will I can have that cake ready for the oven by the +evening. Tomorrow morning we can make salads and other things. I will +work all night if necessary to get the better of Whiskers-on-the-moon." + +Miranda arrived, tearful and breathless. + +"We must fix over my white dress for you to wear," said Rilla. "It will +fit you very nicely with a little alteration." + +To work went the two girls, ripping, fitting, basting, sewing for dear +life. By dint of unceasing effort they got the dress done by seven +o'clock and Miranda tried it on in Rilla's room. + +"It's very pretty--but oh, if I could just have a veil," sighed +Miranda. "I've always dreamed of being married in a lovely white veil." + +Some good fairy evidently waits 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 her father was safely off everything was packed +in a big hamper and taken down to the Pryor house. Joe soon arrived in +his uniform and a state of violent excitement, accompanied by his best +man, Sergeant Malcolm Crawford. There were quite a few guests, for all +the Manse and Ingleside folk were there, and a dozen or so of Joe's +relatives, including his mother, "Mrs. Dead Angus Milgrave," so called, +cheerfully, to distinguish her from another lady whose Angus was +living. Mrs. Dead Angus wore a rather disapproving expression, not +caring over-much for this alliance with the house of +Whiskers-on-the-moon. + +So Miranda Pryor was married to Private Joseph Milgrave on his last +leave. It should have been a romantic wedding but it was not. There +were too many factors working against romance, as even Rilla had to +admit. In the first place, Miranda, in spite of her dress and veil, was +such a flat-faced, commonplace, uninteresting little bride. In the +second place, Joe cried bitterly all through the ceremony, and this +vexed Miranda unreasonably. Long afterwards she told Rilla, "I just +felt like saying to him then and there, 'If you feel so bad over having +to marry me you don't have to.' But it was just because he was thinking +all the time of how soon he would have to leave me." + +In the third place, Jims, who was usually so well-behaved in public, +took a fit of shyness and contrariness combined and began to cry at the +top of his voice for "Willa." Nobody wanted to take him out, because +everybody wanted to see the marriage, so Rilla who was a bridesmaid, +had to take him and hold him during the ceremony. + +In the fourth place, Sir Wilfrid Laurier took a fit. + +Sir Wilfrid was entrenched in a corner of the room behind Miranda's +piano. During his seizure he made the weirdest, most unearthly noises. +He would begin with a series of choking, spasmodic sounds, continuing +into a gruesome gurgle, and ending up with a strangled howl. Nobody +could hear a word Mr. Meredith was saying, except now and then, when +Sir Wilfrid stopped for breath. Nobody looked at the bride except +Susan, who never dragged her fascinated eyes from Miranda's face--all +the others were gazing at the dog. Miranda had been trembling with +nervousness but as soon as Sir Wilfrid began his performance she forgot +it. All that she could think of was that her dear dog was dying and she +could not go to him. She never remembered a word of the ceremony. + +Rilla, who in spite of Jims, had been trying her best to look rapt and +romantic, as beseemed a war bridesmaid, gave up the hopeless attempt, +and devoted her energies to choking down untimely merriment. She dared +not look at anybody in the room, especially Mrs. Dead Angus, for fear +all her suppressed mirth should suddenly explode in a most +un-young-ladylike yell of laughter. + +But married they were, and then they had a wedding-supper in the +dining-room which was so lavish and bountiful that you would have +thought it was the product of a month's labour. Everybody had brought +something. Mrs. Dead Angus had brought a large apple-pie, which she +placed on a chair in the dining-room and then absently sat down on it. +Neither her temper nor her black silk wedding garment was improved +thereby, but the pie was never missed at the gay bridal feast. Mrs. +Dead Angus eventually took it home with her again. +Whiskers-on-the-moon's pacifist pig should not get it, anyhow. + +That evening Mr. and Mrs. Joe, accompanied by the recovered Sir +Wilfrid, departed for the Four Winds Lighthouse, which was kept by +Joe's uncle and in which they meant to spend their brief honeymoon. Una +Meredith and Rilla and Susan washed the dishes, tidied up, left a cold +supper and Miranda's pitiful little note on the table for Mr. Pryor, +and walked home, while the mystic veil of dreamy, haunted winter +twilight wrapped itself over the Glen. + +"I would really not have minded being a war-bride myself," remarked +Susan sentimentally. + +But Rilla felt rather flat--perhaps as a reaction to all the excitement +and rush of the past thirty-six hours. She was disappointed +somehow--the whole affair had been so ludicrous, and Miranda and Joe so +lachrymose and commonplace. + +"If Miranda hadn't given that wretched dog such an enormous dinner he +wouldn't have had that fit," she said crossly. "I warned her--but she +said she couldn't starve the poor dog--he would soon be all she had +left, etc. I could have shaken her." + +"The best man was more excited than Joe was," said Susan. "He wished +Miranda many happy returns of the day. She did not look very happy, but +perhaps you could not expect that under the circumstances." + +"Anyhow," thought Rilla, "I can write a perfectly killing account of it +all to the boys. How Jem will howl over Sir Wilfrid's part in it!" + +But if Rilla was rather disappointed in the war wedding she found +nothing lacking on Friday morning when Miranda said good-bye to her +bridegroom at the Glen station. The dawn was white as a pearl, clear as +a diamond. Behind the station the balsamy copse of young firs was +frost-misted. The cold moon of dawn hung over the westering snow fields +but the golden fleeces of sunrise shone above the maples up at +Ingleside. Joe took his pale little bride in his arms and she lifted +her face to his. Rilla choked suddenly. It did not matter that Miranda +was insignificant and commonplace and flat-featured. It did not matter +that she was the daughter of Whiskers-on-the-moon. All that mattered +was that rapt, sacrificial look in her eyes--that ever-burning, sacred +fire of devotion and loyalty and fine courage that she was mutely +promising Joe she and thousands of other women would keep alive at home +while their men held the Western front. Rilla walked away, realising +that she must not spy on such a moment. She went down to the end of the +platform where Sir Wilfrid and Dog Monday were sitting, looking at each +other. + +Sir Wilfrid remarked condescendingly: "Why do you haunt this old shed +when you might lie on the hearthrug at Ingleside and live on the fat of +the land? Is it a pose? Or a fixed idea?" + +Whereat Dog Monday, laconically: "I have a tryst to keep." + +When the train had gone Rilla rejoined the little trembling Miranda. +"Well, he's gone," said Miranda, "and he may never come back--but I'm +his wife, and I'm going to be worthy of him. I'm going home." + +"Don't you think you had better come with me now?" asked Rilla +doubtfully. Nobody knew yet how Mr. Pryor had taken the matter. + +"No. If Joe can face the Huns I guess I can face father," said Miranda +daringly. "A soldier's wife can't be a coward. Come on, Wilfy. I'll go +straight home and meet the worst." + +There was nothing very dreadful to face, however. Perhaps Mr. Pryor had +reflected that housekeepers were hard to get and that there were many +Milgrave homes open to Miranda--also, that there was such a thing as a +separation allowance. At all events, though he told her grumpily that +she had made a nice fool of herself, and would live to regret it, he +said nothing worse, and Mrs. Joe put on her apron and went to work as +usual, while Sir Wilfrid Laurier, who had a poor opinion of lighthouses +for winter residences, went to sleep in his pet nook behind the +woodbox, a thankful dog that he was done with war-weddings. + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +"THEY SHALL NOT PASS" + +One cold grey morning in February Gertrude Oliver wakened with a +shiver, slipped into Rilla's room, and crept in beside her. + +"Rilla--I'm frightened--frightened as a baby--I've had another of my +strange dreams. Something terrible is before us--I know." + +"What was it?" asked Rilla. + +"I was standing again on the veranda steps--just as I stood in that +dream on the night before the lighthouse dance, and in the sky a huge +black, menacing thunder cloud rolled up from the east. I could see its +shadow racing before it and when it enveloped me I shivered with icy +cold. Then the storm broke--and it was a dreadful storm--blinding flash +after flash and deafening peal after peal, driving torrents of rain. I +turned in panic and tried to run for shelter, and as I did so a man--a +soldier in the uniform of a French army officer--dashed up the steps +and stood beside me on the threshold of the door. His clothes were +soaked with blood from a wound in his breast, he seemed spent and +exhausted; but his white face was set and his eyes blazed in his hollow +face. 'They shall not pass,' he said, in low, passionate tones which I +heard distinctly amid all the turmoil of the storm. Then I awakened. +Rilla, I'm frightened--the spring will not bring the Big Push we've all +been hoping for--instead it is going to bring some dreadful blow to +France. I am sure of it. The Germans will try to smash through +somewhere." + +"But he told you that they would not pass," said Rilla, seriously. She +never laughed at Gertrude's dreams as the doctor did. + +"I do not know if that was prophecy or desperation, Rilla, the horror +of that dream holds me yet in an icy grip. We shall need all our +courage before long." + +Dr. Blythe did laugh at the breakfast table--but he never laughed at +Miss Oliver's dreams again; for that day brought news of the opening of +the Verdun offensive, and thereafter through all the beautiful weeks of +spring the Ingleside family, one and all, lived in a trance of dread. +There were days when they waited in despair for the end as foot by foot +the Germans crept nearer and nearer to the grim barrier of desperate +France. + +Susan's deeds were in her spotless kitchen at Ingleside, but her +thoughts were on the hills around Verdun. "Mrs. Dr. dear," she would +stick her head in at Mrs. Blythe's door the last thing at night to +remark, "I do hope the French have hung onto the Crow's Wood today," +and she woke at dawn to wonder if Dead Man's Hill--surely named by some +prophet--was still held by the "poyloos." Susan could have drawn a map +of the country around Verdun that would have satisfied a chief of staff. + +"If the Germans capture Verdun the spirit of France will be broken," +Miss Oliver said bitterly. + +"But they will not capture it," staunchly said Susan, who could not eat +her dinner that day for fear lest they do that very thing. "In the +first place, you dreamed they would not--you dreamed the very thing the +French are saying before they ever said it--'they shall not pass.' I +declare to you, Miss Oliver, dear, when I read that in the paper, and +remembered your dream, I went cold all over with awe. It seemed to me +like Biblical times when people dreamed things like that quite +frequently. + +"I know--I know," said Gertrude, walking restlessly about. "I cling to +a persistent faith in my dream, too--but every time bad news comes it +fails me. Then I tell myself 'mere coincidence'--'subconscious memory' +and so forth." + +"I do not see how any memory could remember a thing before it was ever +said at all," persisted Susan, "though of course I am not educated like +you and the doctor. I would rather not be, if it makes anything as +simple as that so hard to believe. But in any case we need not worry +over Verdun, even if the Huns get it. Joffre says it has no military +significance." + +"That old sop of comfort has been served up too often already when +reverses came," retorted Gertrude. "It has lost its power to charm." + +"Was there ever a battle like this in the world before?" said Mr. +Meredith, one evening in mid-April. + +"It's such a titanic thing we can't grasp it," said the doctor. "What +were the scraps of a few Homeric handfuls compared to this? The whole +Trojan war might be fought around a Verdun fort and a newspaper +correspondent would give it no more than a sentence. I am not in the +confidence of the occult powers"--the doctor threw Gertrude a +twinkle--"but I have a hunch that the fate of the whole war hangs on +the issue of Verdun. As Susan and Joffre say, it has no real military +significance; but it has the tremendous significance of an Idea. If +Germany wins there she will win the war. If she loses, the tide will +set against her." + +"Lose she will," said Mr. Meredith: emphatically. "The Idea cannot be +conquered. France is certainly very wonderful. It seems to me that in +her I see the white form of civilization making a determined stand +against the black powers of barbarism. I think our whole world realizes +this and that is why we all await the issue so breathlessly. It isn't +merely the question of a few forts changing hands or a few miles of +blood-soaked ground lost and won." + +"I wonder," said Gertrude dreamily, "if some great blessing, great +enough for the price, will be the meed of all our pain? Is the agony in +which the world is shuddering the birth-pang of some wondrous new era? +Or is it merely a futile + + struggle of ants + In the gleam of a million million of suns? + +We think very lightly, Mr. Meredith, of a calamity which destroys an +ant-hill and half its inhabitants. Does the Power that runs the +universe think us of more importance than we think ants?" + +"You forget," said Mr. Meredith, with a flash of his dark eyes, "that +an infinite Power must be infinitely little as well as infinitely +great. We are neither, therefore there are things too little as well as +too great for us to apprehend. To the infinitely little an ant is of as +much importance as a mastodon. We are witnessing the birth-pangs of a +new era--but it will be born a feeble, wailing life like everything +else. I am not one of those who expect a new heaven and a new earth as +the immediate result of this war. That is not the way God works. But +work He does, Miss Oliver, and in the end His purpose will be +fulfilled." + +"Sound and orthodox--sound and orthodox," muttered Susan approvingly in +the kitchen. Susan liked to see Miss Oliver sat upon by the minister +now and then. Susan was very fond of her but she thought Miss Oliver +liked saying heretical things to ministers far too well, and deserved +an occasional reminder that these matters were quite beyond her +province. + +In May Walter wrote home that he had been awarded a D.C. Medal. He did +not say what for, but the other boys took care that the Glen should +know the brave thing Walter had done. "In any war but this," wrote +Jerry Meredith, "it would have meant a V.C. But they can't make V.C.'s +as common as the brave things done every day here." + +"He should have had the V.C.," said Susan, and was very indignant over +it. She was not quite sure who was to blame for his not getting it, but +if it were General Haig she began for the first time to entertain +serious doubts as to his fitness for being Commander-in-Chief. + +Rilla was beside herself with delight. It was her dear Walter who had +done this thing--Walter, to whom someone had sent a white feather at +Redmond--it was Walter who had dashed back from the safety of the +trench to drag in a wounded comrade who had fallen on No-man's-land. +Oh, she could see his white beautiful face and wonderful eyes as he did +it! What a thing to be the sister of such a hero! And he hadn't thought +it worth while writing about. His letter was full of other +things--little intimate things that they two had known and loved +together in the dear old cloudless days of a century ago. + +"I've been thinking of the daffodils in the garden at Ingleside," he +wrote. "By the time you get this they will be out, blowing there under +that lovely rosy sky. Are they really as bright and golden as ever, +Rilla? It seems to me that they must be dyed red with blood--like our +poppies here. And every whisper of spring will be falling as a violet +in Rainbow Valley. + +"There is a young moon tonight--a slender, silver, lovely thing hanging +over these pits of torment. Will you see it tonight over the maple +grove? + +"I'm enclosing a little scrap of verse, Rilla. I wrote it one evening +in my trench dug-out by the light of a bit of candle--or rather it came +to me there--I didn't feel as if I were writing it--something seemed to +use me as an instrument. I've had that feeling once or twice before, +but very rarely and never so strongly as this time. That was why I sent +it over to the London Spectator. It printed it and the copy came today. +I hope you'll like it. It's the only poem I've written since I came +overseas." + +The poem was a short, poignant little thing. In a month it had carried +Walter's name to every corner of the globe. Everywhere it was +copied--in metropolitan dailies and little village weeklies--in +profound reviews and "agony columns," in Red Cross appeals and +Government recruiting propaganda. Mothers and sisters wept over it, +young lads thrilled to it, the whole great heart of humanity caught it +up as an epitome of all the pain and hope and pity and purpose of the +mighty conflict, crystallized in three brief immortal verses. A +Canadian lad in the Flanders trenches had written the one great poem of +the war. "The Piper," by Pte. Walter Blythe, was a classic from its +first printing. + +Rilla copied it in her diary at the beginning of an entry in which she +poured out the story of the hard week that had just passed. + +"It has been such a dreadful week," she wrote, "and even though it is +over and we know that it was all a mistake that does not seem to do +away with the bruises left by it. And yet it has in some ways been a +very wonderful week and I have had some glimpses of things I never +realized before--of how fine and brave people can be even in the midst +of horrible suffering. I am sure I could never be as splendid as Miss +Oliver was. + +"Just a week ago today she had a letter from Mr. Grant's mother in +Charlottetown. And it told her that a cable had just come saying that +Major Robert Grant had been killed in action a few days before. + +"Oh, poor Gertrude! At first she was crushed. Then after just a day she +pulled herself together and went back to her school. She did not cry--I +never saw her shed a tear--but oh, her face and her eyes! + +"'I must go on with my work,' she said. 'That is my duty just now.' + +"I could never have risen to such a height. + +"She never spoke bitterly except once, when Susan said something about +spring being here at last, and Gertrude said, + +"'Can the spring really come this year?' + +"Then she laughed--such a dreadful little laugh, just as one might +laugh in the face of death, I think, and said, + +"'Observe my egotism. Because I, Gertrude Oliver, have lost a friend, +it is incredible that the spring can come as usual. The spring does not +fail because of the million agonies of others--but for mine--oh, can +the universe go on?' + +"'Don't feel bitter with yourself, dear,' mother said gently. 'It is a +very natural thing to feel as if things couldn't go on just the same +when some great blow has changed the world for us. We all feel like +that.' + +"Then that horrid old Cousin Sophia of Susan's piped up. She was +sitting there, knitting and croaking like an old 'raven of bode and +woe' as Walter used to call her. + +"'You ain't as bad off as some, Miss Oliver,' she said, 'and you +shouldn't take it so hard. There's some as has lost their husbands; +that's a hard blow; and there's some as has lost their sons. You +haven't lost either husband or son.' + +"'No,' said Gertrude, more bitterly still. 'It's true I haven't lost a +husband--I have only lost the man who would have been my husband. I +have lost no son--only the sons and daughters who might have been born +to me--who will never be born to me now.' + +"'It isn't ladylike to talk like that,' said Cousin Sophia in a shocked +tone; and then Gertrude laughed right out, so wildly that Cousin Sophia +was really frightened. And when poor tortured Gertrude, unable to +endure it any longer, hurried out of the room, Cousin Sophia asked +mother if the blow hadn't affected Miss Oliver's mind. + +"'I suffered the loss of two good kind partners,' she said, 'but it did +not affect me like that.' + +"I should think it wouldn't! Those poor men must have been thankful to +die. + +"I heard Gertrude walking up and down her room most of the night. She +walked like that every night. But never so long as that night. And once +I heard her give a dreadful sudden little cry as if she had been +stabbed. I couldn't sleep for suffering with her; and I couldn't help +her. I thought the night would never end. But it did; and then 'joy +came in the morning' as the Bible says. Only it didn't come exactly in +the morning but well along in the afternoon. The telephone rang and I +answered it. It was old Mrs. Grant speaking from Charlottetown, and her +news was that it was all a mistake--Robert wasn't killed at all; he had +only been slightly wounded in the arm and was safe in the hospital out +of harm's way for a time anyhow. They hadn't learned yet how the +mistake had happened but supposed there must have been another Robert +Grant. + +"I hung up the telephone and flew to Rainbow Valley. I'm sure I did +fly--I can't remember my feet ever touching the ground. I met Gertrude +on her way home from school in the glade of spruces where we used to +play, and I just gasped out the news to her. I ought to have had more +sense, of course. But I was so crazy with joy and excitement that I +never stopped to think. Gertrude just dropped there among the golden +young ferns as if she had been shot. The fright it gave me ought to +make me sensible--in this respect at least--for the rest of my life. I +thought I had killed her--I remembered that her mother had died very +suddenly from heart failure when quite a young woman. It seemed years +to me before I discovered that her heart was still beating. A pretty +time I had! I never saw anybody faint before, and I knew there was +nobody up at the house to help, because everybody else had gone to the +station to meet Di and Nan coming home from Redmond. But I +knew--theoretically--how people in a faint should be treated, and now I +know it practically. Luckily the brook was handy, and after I had +worked frantically over her for a while Gertrude came back to life. She +never said one word about my news and I didn't dare to refer to it +again. I helped her walk up through the maple grove and up to her room, +and then she said, 'Rob--is--living,' as if the words were torn out of +her, and flung herself on her bed and cried and cried and cried. I +never saw anyone cry so 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 doctor did not answer. Sometimes his work tricked him into +forgetting for a few moments the Western front, but not often. There +was a good deal of grey now in his still thick curls that had not been +there two years ago. Yet he smiled down into the starry eyes he +loved--the eyes that had once been so full of laughter, and now seemed +always full of unshed tears. + +Susan wandered by with a hoe in her hand and her second best bonnet on +her head. + +"I have just finished reading a piece in the Enterprise which told of a +couple being married in an aeroplane. Do you think it would be legal, +doctor dear?" she inquired anxiously. + +"I think so," said the doctor gravely. + +"Well," said Susan dubiously, "it seems to me that a wedding is too +solemn for anything so giddy as an aeroplane. But nothing is the same +as it used to be. Well, it is half an hour yet before prayer-meeting +time, so I am going around to the kitchen garden to have a little +evening hate with the weeds. But all the time I am strafing them I will +be thinking about this new worry in the Trentino. I do not like this +Austrian caper, Mrs. Dr. dear." + +"Nor I," said Mrs. Blythe ruefully. "All the forenoon I preserved +rhubarb with my hands and waited for the war news with my soul. When it +came I shrivelled. Well, I suppose I must go and get ready for the +prayer-meeting, too." + +Every village has its own little unwritten history, handed down from +lip to lip through the generations, of tragic, comic, and dramatic +events. They are told at weddings and festivals, and rehearsed around +winter firesides. And in these oral annals of Glen St. Mary the tale of +the union prayer-meeting held that night in the Methodist Church was +destined to fill an imperishable place. + +The union prayer-meeting was Mr. Arnold's idea. The county battalion, +which had been training all winter in Charlottetown, was to leave +shortly for overseas. The Four Winds Harbour boys belonging to it from +the Glen and over-harbour and Harbour Head and Upper Glen were all home +on their last leave, and Mr. Arnold thought, properly enough, that it +would be a fitting thing to hold a union prayer-meeting for them before +they went away. Mr. Meredith having agreed, the meeting was announced +to be held in the Methodist Church. Glen prayer-meetings were not apt +to be too well attended, but on this particular evening the Methodist +Church was crowded. Everybody who could go was there. Even Miss +Cornelia came--and it was the first time in her life that Miss Cornelia +had ever set foot inside a Methodist Church. It took no less than a +world conflict to bring that about. + +"I used to hate Methodists," said Miss Cornelia calmly, when her +husband expressed surprise over her going, "but I don't hate them now. +There is no sense in hating Methodists when there is a Kaiser or a +Hindenburg in the world." + +So Miss Cornelia went. Norman Douglas and his wife went too. And +Whiskers-on-the-moon strutted up the aisle to a front pew, as if he +fully realized what a distinction he conferred upon the building. +People were somewhat surprised that he should be there, since he +usually avoided all assemblages connected in any way with the war. But +Mr. Meredith had said that he hoped his session would be well +represented, and Mr. Pryor had evidently taken the request to heart. He +wore his best black suit and white tie, his thick, tight, iron-grey +curls were neatly arranged, and his broad, red round face looked, as +Susan most uncharitably thought, more "sanctimonious" than ever. + +"The minute I saw that man coming into the Church, looking like that, I +felt that mischief was brewing, Mrs. Dr. dear," she said afterwards. +"What form it would take I could not tell, but I knew from face of him +that he had come there for no good." + +The prayer-meeting opened conventionally and continued quietly. Mr. +Meredith spoke first with his usual eloquence and feeling. Mr. Arnold +followed with an address which even Miss Cornelia had to confess was +irreproachable in taste and subject-matter. + +And then Mr. Arnold asked Mr. Pryor to lead in prayer. + +Miss Cornelia had always averred that Mr. Arnold had no gumption. Miss +Cornelia was not apt to err on the side of charity in her judgment of +Methodist ministers, but in this case she did not greatly overshoot the +mark. The Rev. Mr. Arnold certainly did not have much of that +desirable, indefinable quality known as gumption, or he would never +have asked Whiskers-on-the-moon to lead in prayer at a khaki +prayer-meeting. He thought he was returning the compliment to Mr. +Meredith, who, at the conclusion of his address, had asked a Methodist +deacon to lead. + +Some people expected Mr. Pryor to refuse grumpily--and that would have +made enough scandal. But Mr. Pryor bounded briskly to his feet, +unctuously said, "Let us pray," and forthwith prayed. In a sonorous +voice which penetrated to every corner of the crowded building Mr. +Pryor poured forth a flood of fluent words, and was well on in his +prayer before his dazed and horrified audience awakened to the fact +that they were listening to a pacifist appeal of the rankest sort. Mr. +Pryor had at least the courage of his convictions; or perhaps, as +people afterwards said, he thought he was safe in a church and that it +was an excellent chance to air certain opinions he dared not voice +elsewhere, for fear of being mobbed. He prayed that the unholy war +might cease--that the deluded armies being driven to slaughter on the +Western front might have their eyes opened to their iniquity and repent +while yet there was time--that the poor young men present in khaki, who +had been hounded into a path of murder and militarism, should yet be +rescued-- + +Mr. Pryor had got this far without let or hindrance; and so paralysed +were his hearers, and so deeply imbued with their born-and-bred +conviction that no disturbance must ever be made in a church, no matter +what the provocation, that it seemed likely that he would continue +unchecked to the end. But one man at least in that audience was not +hampered by inherited or acquired reverence for the sacred edifice. +Norman Douglas was, as Susan had often vowed crisply, nothing more or +less than a "pagan." But he was a rampantly patriotic pagan, and when +the significance of what Mr. Pryor was saying fully dawned on him, +Norman Douglas suddenly went berserk. With a positive roar he bounded +to his feet in his side pew, facing the audience, and shouted in tones +of thunder: + +"Stop--stop--STOP that abominable prayer! What an abominable prayer!" + +Every head in the church flew up. A boy in khaki at the back gave a +faint cheer. Mr. Meredith raised a deprecating hand, but Norman was +past caring for anything like that. Eluding his wife's restraining +grasp, he gave one mad spring over the front of the pew and caught the +unfortunate Whiskers-on-the-moon by his coat collar. Mr. Pryor had not +"stopped" when so bidden, but he stopped now, perforce, for Norman, his +long red beard literally bristling with fury, was shaking him until his +bones fairly rattled, and punctuating his shakes with a lurid +assortment of abusive epithets. + +"You blatant beast!"--shake--"You malignant carrion"--shake--"You +pig-headed varmint!"--shake--"you putrid pup"--shake--"you pestilential +parasite"--shake--"you--Hunnish scum"--shake--"you indecent +reptile--you--you--" Norman choked for a moment. Everybody believed +that the next thing he would say, church or no church, would be +something that would have to be spelt with asterisks; but at that +moment Norman encountered his wife's eye and he fell back with a thud +on Holy Writ. "You whited sepulchre!" he bellowed, with a final shake, +and cast Whiskers-on-the-moon from him with a vigour which impelled +that unhappy pacifist to the very verge of the choir entrance door. Mr. +Pryor's once ruddy face was ashen. But he turned at bay. "I'll have the +law on you for this," he gasped. + +"Do--do," roared Norman, making another rush. But Mr. Pryor was gone. +He had no desire to fall a second time into the hands of an avenging +militarist. Norman turned to the platform for one graceless, triumphant +moment. + +"Don't look so flabbergasted, parsons," he boomed. "You couldn't do +it--nobody would expect it of the cloth--but somebody had to do it. You +know you're glad I threw him out--he couldn't be let go on yammering +and yodelling and yawping sedition and treason. Sedition and +treason--somebody had to deal with it. I was born for this hour--I've +had my innings in church at last. I can sit quiet for another sixty +years now! Go ahead with your meeting, parsons. I reckon you won't be +troubled with any more pacifist prayers." + +But the spirit of devotion and reverence had fled. Both ministers +realized it and realized that the only thing to do was to close the +meeting quietly and let the excited people go. Mr. Meredith addressed a +few earnest words to the boys in khaki--which probably saved Mr. +Pryor's windows from a second onslaught--and Mr. Arnold pronounced an +incongruous benediction, at least he felt it was incongruous, for he +could not at once banish from his memory the sight of gigantic Norman +Douglas shaking the fat, pompous little Whiskers-on-the-moon as a huge +mastiff might shake an overgrown puppy. And he knew that the same +picture was in everybody's mind. Altogether the union prayer-meeting +could hardly be called an unqualified success. But it was remembered in +Glen St. Mary when scores of orthodox and undisturbed assemblies were +totally forgotten. + +"You will never, no, never, Mrs. Dr. dear, hear me call Norman Douglas +a pagan again," said Susan when she reached home. "If Ellen Douglas is +not a proud woman this night she should be." + +"Norman Douglas did a wholly indefensible thing," said the doctor. +"Pryor should have been let severely alone until the meeting was over. +Then later on, his own minister and session should deal with him. That +would have been the proper procedure. Norman's performance was utterly +improper and scandalous and outrageous; but, by George,"--the doctor +threw back his head and chuckled, "by George, Anne-girl, it was +satisfying." + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +"LOVE AFFAIRS ARE HORRIBLE" + +Ingleside + 20th June 1916 + +"We have been so busy, and day after day has brought such exciting +news, good and bad, that I haven't had time and composure to write in +my diary for weeks. I like to keep it up regularly, for father says a +diary of the years of the war should be a very interesting thing to +hand down to one's children. The trouble is, I like to write a few +personal things in this blessed old book that might not be exactly what +I'd want my children to read. I feel that I shall be a far greater +stickler for propriety in regard to them than I am for myself! + +"The first week in June was another dreadful one. The Austrians seemed +just on the point of overrunning Italy: and then came the first awful +news of the Battle of Jutland, which the Germans claimed as a great +victory. Susan was the only one who carried on. 'You need never tell me +that the Kaiser has defeated the British Navy,' she said, with a +contemptuous sniff. 'It is all a German lie and that you may tie to.' +And when a couple of days later we found out that she was right and +that it had been a British victory instead of a British defeat, we had +to put up with a great many 'I told you so's,' but we endured them very +comfortably. + +"It took Kitchener's death to finish Susan. For the first time I saw +her down and out. We all felt the shock of it but Susan plumbed the +depths of despair. The news came at night by 'phone but Susan wouldn't +believe it until she saw the Enterprise headline the next day. She did +not cry or faint or go into hysterics; but she forgot to put salt in +the soup, and that is something Susan never did in my recollection. +Mother and Miss Oliver and I cried but Susan looked at us in stony +sarcasm and said, 'The Kaiser and his six sons are all alive and +thriving. So the world is not left wholly desolate. Why cry, Mrs. Dr. +dear?' Susan continued in this stony, hopeless condition for +twenty-four hours, and then Cousin Sophia appeared and began to condole +with her. + +"'This is terrible news, ain't it, Susan? We might as well prepare for +the worst for it is bound to come. You said once--and well do I +remember the words, Susan Baker--that you had complete confidence in +God and Kitchener. Ah well, Susan Baker, there is only God left now.' + +"Whereat Cousin Sophia put her handkerchief to her eyes pathetically as +if the world were indeed in terrible straits. As for Susan, Cousin +Sophia was the salvation of her. She came to life with a jerk. + +"'Sophia Crawford, hold your peace!' she said sternly. 'You may be an +idiot but you need not be an irreverent idiot. It is no more than +decent to be weeping and wailing because the Almighty is the sole stay +of the Allies now. As for Kitchener, his death is a great loss and I do +not dispute it. But the outcome of this war does not depend on one +man's life and now that the Russians are coming on again you will soon +see a change for the better.' + +"Susan said this so energetically that she convinced herself and +cheered up immediately. But Cousin Sophia shook her head. + +"'Albert's wife wants to call the baby after Brusiloff,' she said, 'but +I told her to wait and see what becomes of him first. Them Russians has +such a habit of petering out.' + +"The Russians are doing splendidly, however, and they have saved Italy. +But even when the daily news of their sweeping advance comes we don't +feel like running up the flag as we used to do. As Gertrude says, +Verdun has slain all exultation. We would all feel more like rejoicing +if the victories were on the western front. 'When will the British +strike?' Gertrude sighed this morning. 'We have waited so long--so +long.' + +"Our greatest local event in recent weeks was the route march the +county battalion made through the county before it left for overseas. +They marched from Charlottetown to Lowbridge, then round the Harbour +Head and through the Upper Glen and so down to the St. Mary station. +Everybody turned out to see them, except old Aunt Fannie Clow, who is +bedridden and Mr. Pryor, who hadn't been seen out even in church since +the night of the Union Prayer Meeting the previous week. + +"It was wonderful and heartbreaking to see that battalion marching +past. There were young men and middle-aged men in it. There was Laurie +McAllister from over-harbour who is only sixteen but swore he was +eighteen, so that he could enlist; and there was Angus Mackenzie, from +the Upper Glen who is fifty-five if he is a day and swore he was +forty-four. There were two South African veterans from Lowbridge, and +the three eighteen-year-old Baxter triplets from Harbour Head. +Everybody cheered as they went by, and they cheered Foster Booth, who +is forty, walking side by side with his son Charley who is twenty. +Charley's mother died when he was born, and when Charley enlisted +Foster said he'd never yet let Charley go anywhere he daren't go +himself, and he didn't mean to begin with the Flanders trenches. At the +station Dog Monday nearly went out of his head. He tore about and sent +messages to Jem by them all. Mr. Meredith read an address and Reta +Crawford recited 'The Piper.' The soldiers cheered her like mad and +cried 'We'll follow--we'll follow--we won't break faith,' and I felt so +proud to think that it was my dear brother who had written such a +wonderful, heart-stirring thing. And then I looked at the khaki ranks +and wondered if those tall fellows in uniform could be the boys I've +laughed with and played with and danced with and teased all my life. +Something seems to have touched them and set them apart. They have +heard the Piper's call. + +"Fred Arnold was in the battalion and I felt dreadfully about him, for +I realized that it was because of me that he was going away with such a +sorrowful expression. I couldn't help it but I felt as badly as if I +could. + +"The last evening of his leave Fred came up to Ingleside and told me he +loved me and asked me if I would promise to marry him some day, if he +ever came back. He was desperately in earnest and I felt more wretched +than I ever did in my life. I couldn't promise him that--why, even if +there was no question of Ken, I don't care for Fred that way and never +could--but it seemed so cruel and heartless to send him away to the +front without any hope of comfort. I cried like a baby; and yet--oh, I +am afraid that there must be something incurably frivolous about me, +because, right in the middle of it all, with me crying and Fred looking +so wild and tragic, the thought popped into my head that it would be an +unendurable thing to see that nose across from me at the breakfast +table every morning of my life. There, that is one of the entries I +wouldn't want my descendants to read in this journal. But it is the +humiliating truth; and perhaps it's just as well that thought did come +or I might have been tricked by pity and remorse into giving him some +rash assurance. If Fred's nose were as handsome as his eyes and mouth +some such thing might have happened. And then what an unthinkable +predicament I should have been in! + +"When poor Fred became convinced that I couldn't promise him, he +behaved beautifully--though that rather made things worse. If he had +been nasty about it I wouldn't have felt so heartbroken and +remorseful--though why I should feel remorseful I don't know, for I +never encouraged Fred to think I cared a bit about him. Yet feel +remorseful I did--and do. If Fred Arnold never comes back from +overseas, this will haunt me all my life. + +"Then Fred said if he couldn't take my love with him to the trenches at +least he wanted to feel that he had my friendship, and would I kiss him +just once in good-bye before he went--perhaps for ever? + +"I don't know how I could ever had imagined that love affairs were +delightful, interesting things. They are horrible. I couldn't even give +poor heartbroken Fred one little kiss, because of my promise to Ken. It +seemed so brutal. I had to tell Fred that of course he would have my +friendship, but that I couldn't kiss him because I had promised +somebody else I wouldn't. + +"He said, 'It is--is it--Ken Ford?' + +"I nodded. It seemed dreadful to have to tell it--it was such a sacred +little secret just between me and Ken. + +"When Fred went away I came up here to my room and cried so long and so +bitterly that mother came up and insisted on knowing what was the +matter. I told her. She listened to my tale with an expression that +clearly said, 'Can it be possible that anyone has been wanting to marry +this baby?' But she was so nice and understanding and sympathetic, oh, +just so race-of-Josephy--that I felt indescribably comforted. Mothers +are the dearest things. + +"'But oh, mother,' I sobbed, 'he wanted me to kiss him good-bye--and I +couldn't--and that hurt me worse than all the rest.' + +"'Well, why didn't you kiss him?' asked mother coolly. 'Considering the +circumstances, I think you might have.' + +"'But I couldn't, mother--I promised Ken when he went away that I +wouldn't kiss anybody else until he came back.' + +"This was another high explosive for poor mother. She exclaimed, with +the queerest little catch in her voice, 'Rilla, are you engaged to +Kenneth Ford?' + +"'I--don't--know,' I sobbed. + +"'You--don't--know?' repeated mother. + +"Then I had to tell her the whole story, too; and every time I tell it +it seems sillier and sillier to imagine that Ken meant anything +serious. I felt idiotic and ashamed by the time I got through. + +"Mother sat a little while in silence. Then she came over, sat down +beside me, and took me in her arms. + +"'Don't cry, dear little Rilla-my-Rilla. You have nothing to reproach +yourself with in regard to Fred; and if Leslie West's son asked you to +keep your lips for him, I think you may consider yourself engaged to +him. But--oh, my baby--my last little baby--I have lost you--the war +has made a woman of you too soon.' + +"I shall never be too much of a woman to find comfort in mother's hugs. +Nevertheless, when I saw Fred marching by two days later in the parade, +my heart ached unbearably. + +"But I'm glad mother thinks I'm really engaged to Ken!" + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +LITTLE DOG MONDAY KNOWS + +"It is two years tonight since the dance at the light, when Jack +Elliott brought us news of the war. Do you remember, Miss Oliver?" + +Cousin Sophia answered for Miss Oliver. "Oh, indeed, Rilla, I remember +that evening only too well, and you a-prancing down here to show off +your party clothes. Didn't I warn you that we could not tell what was +before us? Little did you think that night what was before you." + +"Little did any of us think that," said Susan sharply, "not being +gifted with the power of prophecy. It does not require any great +foresight, Sophia Crawford, to tell a body that she will have some +trouble before her life is over. I could do as much myself." + +"We all thought the war would be over in a few months then," said Rilla +wistfully. "When I look back it seems so ridiculous that we ever could +have supposed it." + +"And now, two years later, it is no nearer the end than it was then," +said Miss Oliver gloomily. + +Susan clicked her knitting-needles briskly. + +"Now, Miss Oliver, dear, you know that is not a reasonable remark. You +know we are just two years nearer the end, whenever the end is +appointed to be." + +"Albert read in a Montreal paper today that a war expert gives it as +his opinion that it will last five years more," was Cousin Sophia's +cheerful contribution. + +"It can't," cried Rilla; then she added with a sigh, "Two years ago we +would have said 'It can't last two years.' But five more years of this!" + +"If Rumania comes in, as I have strong hopes now of her doing, you will +see the end in five months instead of five years," said Susan. + +"I've no faith in furriners," sighed Cousin Sophia. + +"The French are foreigners," retorted Susan, "and look at Verdun. And +think of all the Somme victories this blessed summer. The Big Push is +on and the Russians are still going well. Why, General Haig says that +the German officers he has captured admit that they have lost the war." + +"You can't believe a word the Germans say," protested Cousin Sophia. +"There is no sense in believing a thing just because you'd like to +believe it, Susan Baker. The British have lost millions of men at the +Somme and how far have they got? Look facts in the face, Susan Baker, +look facts in the face." + +"They are wearing the Germans out and so long as that happens it does +not matter whether it is done a few miles east or a few miles west. I +am not," admitted Susan in tremendous humility, "I am not a military +expert, Sophia Crawford, but even I can see that, and so could you if +you were not determined to take a gloomy view of everything. The Huns +have not got all the cleverness in the world. Have you not heard the +story of Alistair MacCallum's son Roderick, from the Upper Glen? He is +a prisoner in Germany and his mother got a letter from him last week. +He wrote that he was being very kindly treated and that all the +prisoners had plenty of food and so on, till you would have supposed +everything was lovely. But when he signed his name, right in between +Roderick and MacCallum, he wrote two Gaelic words that meant 'all lies' +and the German censor did not understand Gaelic and thought it was all +part of Roddy's name. So he let it pass, never dreaming how he was +diddled. Well, I am going to leave the war to Haig for the rest of the +day and make a frosting for my chocolate cake. And when it is made I +shall put it on the top shelf. The last one I made I left it on the +lower shelf and little Kitchener sneaked in and clawed all the icing +off and ate it. We had company for tea that night and when I went to +get my cake what a sight did I behold!" + +"Has that pore orphan's father never been heerd from yet?" asked Cousin +Sophia. + +"Yes, I had a letter from him in July," said Rilla. "He said that when +he got word of his wife's death and of my taking the baby--Mr. Meredith +wrote him, you know--he wrote right away, but as he never got any +answer he had begun to think his letter must have been lost." + +"It took him two years to begin to think it," said Susan scornfully. +"Some people think very slow. Jim Anderson has not got a scratch, for +all he has been two years in the trenches. A fool for luck, as the old +proverb says." + +"He wrote very nicely about Jims and said he'd like to see him," said +Rilla. "So I wrote and told him all about the wee man, and sent him +snapshots. Jims will be two years old next week and he is a perfect +duck." + +"You didn't used to be very fond of babies," said Cousin Sophia. + +"I'm not a bit fonder of babies in the abstract than ever I was," said +Rilla, frankly. "But I do love Jims, and I'm afraid I wasn't really +half as glad as I should have been when Jim Anderson's letter proved +that he was safe and sound." + +"You wasn't hoping the man would be killed!" cried Cousin Sophia in +horrified accents. + +"No--no--no! I just hoped he would go on forgetting about Jims, Mrs. +Crawford." + +"And then your pa would have the expense of raising him," said Cousin +Sophia reprovingly. "You young creeturs are terrible thoughtless." + +Jims himself ran in at this juncture, so rosy and curly and kissable, +that he extorted a qualified compliment even from Cousin Sophia. + +"He's a reel healthy-looking child now, though mebbee his colour is a +mite too high--sorter consumptive looking, as you might say. I never +thought you'd raise him when I saw him the day after you brung him +home. I reely did not think it was in you and I told Albert's wife so +when I got home. Albert's wife says, says she, 'There's more in Rilla +Blythe than you'd think for, Aunt Sophia.' Them was her very words. +'More in Rilla Blythe than you'd think for.' Albert's wife always had a +good opinion of you." + +Cousin Sophia sighed, as if to imply that Albert's wife stood alone in +this against the world. But Cousin Sophia really did not mean that. She +was quite fond of Rilla in her own melancholy way; but young creeturs +had to be kept down. If they were not kept down society would be +demoralized. + +"Do you remember your walk home from the light two years ago tonight?" +whispered Gertrude Oliver to Rilla, teasingly. + +"I should think I do," smiled Rilla; and then her smile grew dreamy and +absent; she was remembering something else--that hour with Kenneth on +the sandshore. Where would Ken be tonight? And Jem and Jerry and Walter +and all the other boys who had danced and moonlighted on the old Four +Winds Point that evening of mirth and laughter--their last joyous +unclouded evening. In the filthy trenches of the Somme front, with the +roar of the guns and the groans of stricken men for the music of Ned +Burr's violin, and the flash of star shells for the silver sparkles on +the old blue gulf. Two of them were sleeping under the Flanders +poppies--Alec Burr from the Upper Glen, and Clark Manley of Lowbridge. +Others were wounded in the hospitals. But so far nothing had touched +the manse and the Ingleside boys. They seemed to bear charmed lives. +Yet the suspense never grew any easier to bear as the weeks and months +of war went by. + +"It isn't as if it were some sort of fever to which you might conclude +they were immune when they hadn't taken it for two years," sighed +Rilla. "The danger is just as great and just as real as it was the +first day they went into the trenches. I know this, and it tortures me +every day. And yet I can't help hoping that since they've come this far +unhurt they'll come through. Oh, Miss Oliver, what would it be like not +to wake up in the morning feeling afraid of the news the day would +bring? I can't picture such a state of things somehow. And two years +ago this morning I woke wondering what delightful gift the new day +would give me. These are the two years I thought would be filled with +fun." + +"Would you exchange them--now--for two years filled with fun?" + +"No," said Rilla slowly. "I wouldn't. It's strange--isn't it?--They +have been two terrible years--and yet I have a queer feeling of +thankfulness for them--as if they had brought me something very +precious, with all their pain. I wouldn't want to go back and be the +girl I was two years ago, not even if I could. Not that I think I've +made any wonderful progress--but I'm not quite the selfish, frivolous +little doll I was then. I suppose I had a soul then, Miss Oliver--but I +didn't know it. I know it now--and that is worth a great deal--worth +all the suffering of the past two years. And still"--Rilla gave a +little apologetic laugh, "I don't want to suffer any more--not even for +the sake of more soul growth. At the end of two more years I might look +back and be thankful for the development they had brought me, too; but +I don't want it now." + +"We never do," said Miss Oliver. "That is why we are not left to choose +our own means and measure of development, I suppose. No matter how much +we value what our lessons have brought us we don't want to go on with +the bitter schooling. Well, let us hope for the best, as Susan says; +things are really going well now and if Rumania lines up, the end may +come with a suddenness that will surprise us all." + +Rumania did come in--and Susan remarked approvingly that its king and +queen were the finest looking royal couple she had seen pictures of. So +the summer passed away. Early in September word came that the Canadians +had been shifted to the Somme front and anxiety grew tenser and deeper. +For the first time Mrs. Blythe's spirit failed her a little, and as the +days of suspense wore on the doctor began to look gravely at her, and +veto this or that special effort in Red Cross work. + +"Oh, let me work--let me work, Gilbert," she entreated feverishly. +"While I'm working I don't think so much. If I'm idle I imagine +everything--rest is only torture for me. My two boys are on the +frightful Somme front--and Shirley pores day and night over aviation +literature and says nothing. But I see the purpose growing in his eyes. +No, I cannot rest--don't ask it of me, Gilbert." + +But the doctor was inexorable. + +"I can't let you kill yourself, Anne-girl," he said. "When the boys +come back I want a mother here to welcome them. Why, you're getting +transparent. It won't do--ask Susan there if it will do." + +"Oh, if Susan and you are both banded together against me!" said Anne +helplessly. + +One day the glorious news came that the Canadians had taken Courcelette +and Martenpuich, with many prisoners and guns. Susan ran up the flag +and said it was plain to be seen that Haig knew what soldiers to pick +for a hard job. The others dared not feel exultant. Who knew what price +had been paid? + +Rilla woke that morning when the dawn was beginning to break and went +to her window to look out, her thick creamy eyelids heavy with sleep. +Just at dawn the world looks as it never looks at any other time. The +air was cold with dew and the orchard and grove and Rainbow Valley were +full of mystery and wonder. Over the eastern hill were golden deeps and +silvery-pink shallows. There was no wind, and Rilla heard distinctly a +dog howling in a melancholy way down in the direction of the station. +Was it Dog Monday? And if it were, why was he howling like that? Rilla +shivered; the sound had something boding and grievous in it. She +remembered that Miss Oliver said once, when they were coming home in +the darkness and heard a dog howl, "When a dog cries like that the +Angel of Death is passing." Rilla listened with a curdling fear at her +heart. It was Dog Monday--she felt sure of it. Whose dirge was he +howling--to whose spirit was he sending that anguished greeting and +farewell? + +Rilla went back to bed but she could not sleep. All day she watched and +waited in a dread of which she did not speak to anyone. She went down +to see Dog Monday and the station-master said, "That dog of yours +howled from midnight to sunrise something weird. I dunno what got into +him. I got up once and went out and hollered at him but he paid no +'tention to me. He was sitting all alone in the moonlight out there at +the end of the platform, and every few minutes the poor lonely little +beggar'd lift his nose and howl as if his heart was breaking. He never +did it afore--always slept in his kennel real quiet and canny from +train to train. But he sure had something on his mind last night." + +Dog Monday was lying in his kennel. He wagged his tail and licked +Rilla's hand. But he would not touch the food she brought for him. + +"I'm afraid he's sick," she said anxiously. She hated to go away and +leave him. But no bad news came that day--nor the next--nor the next. +Rilla's fear lifted. Dog Monday howled no more and resumed his routine +of train meeting and watching. When five days had passed the Ingleside +people began to feel that they might be cheerful again. Rilla dashed +about the kitchen helping Susan with the breakfast and singing so +sweetly and clearly that Cousin Sophia across the road heard her and +croaked out to Mrs. Albert, + +"'Sing before eating, cry before sleeping,' I've always heard." + +But Rilla Blythe shed no tears before the nightfall. When her father, +his face grey and drawn and old, came to her that afternoon and told +her that Walter had been killed in action at Courcelette she crumpled +up in a pitiful little heap of merciful unconsciousness in his arms. +Nor did she waken to her pain for many hours. + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +"AND SO, GOODNIGHT" + +The fierce flame of agony had burned itself out and the grey dust of +its ashes was over all the world. Rilla's younger life recovered +physically sooner than her mother. For weeks Mrs. Blythe lay ill from +grief and shock. Rilla found it was possible to go on with existence, +since existence had still to be reckoned with. There was work to be +done, for Susan could not do all. For her mother's sake she had to put +on calmness and endurance as a garment in the day; but night after +night she lay in her bed, weeping the bitter rebellious tears of youth +until at last tears were all wept out and the little patient ache that +was to be in her heart until she died took their place. + +She clung to Miss Oliver, who knew what to say and what not to say. So +few people did. Kind, well-meaning callers and comforters gave Rilla +some terrible moments. + +"You'll get over it in time," Mrs. William Reese said, cheerfully. Mrs. +Reese had three stalwart sons, not one of whom had gone to the front. + +"It's such a blessing it was Walter who was taken and not Jem," said +Miss Sarah Clow. "Walter was a member of the church, and Jem wasn't. +I've told Mr. Meredith many a time that he should have spoken seriously +to Jem about it before he went away." + +"Pore, pore Walter," sighed Mrs. Reese. + +"Do not you come here calling him poor Walter," said Susan indignantly, +appearing in the kitchen door, much to the relief of Rilla, who felt +that she could endure no more just then. "He was not poor. He was +richer than any of you. It is you who stay at home and will not let +your sons go who are poor--poor and naked and mean and small--pisen +poor, and so are your sons, with all their prosperous farms and fat +cattle and their souls no bigger than a flea's--if as big." + +"I came here to comfort the afflicted and not to be insulted," said +Mrs. Reese, taking her departure, unregretted by anyone. Then the fire +went out of Susan and she retreated to her kitchen, laid her faithful +old head on the table and wept bitterly for a time. Then she went to +work and ironed Jims's little rompers. Rilla scolded her gently for it +when she herself came in to do it. + +"I am not going to have you kill yourself working for any war-baby," +Susan said obstinately. + +"Oh, I wish I could just keep on working all the time, Susan," cried +poor Rilla. "And I wish I didn't have to go to sleep. It is hideous to +go to sleep and forget it for a little while, and wake up and have it +all rush over me anew the next morning. Do people ever get used to +things like this, Susan? And oh, Susan, I can't get away from what Mrs. +Reese said. Did Walter suffer much--he was always so sensitive to pain. +Oh, Susan, if I knew that he didn't I think I could gather up a little +courage and strength." + +This merciful knowledge was given to Rilla. A letter came from Walter's +commanding officer, telling them that he had been killed instantly by a +bullet during a charge at Courcelette. The same day there was a letter +for Rilla from Walter himself. + +Rilla carried it unopened to Rainbow Valley and read it there, in the +spot where she had had her last talk with him. It is a strange thing to +read a letter after the writer is dead--a bitter-sweet thing, in which +pain and comfort are strangely mingled. For the first time since the +blow had fallen Rilla felt--a different thing from tremulous hope and +faith--that Walter, of the glorious gift and the splendid ideals, still +lived, with just the same gift and just the same ideals. That could not +be destroyed--these could suffer no eclipse. The personality that had +expressed itself in that last letter, written on the eve of +Courcelette, could not be snuffed out by a German bullet. It must carry +on, though the earthly link with things of earth were broken. + +"We're going over the top tomorrow, Rilla-my-Rilla," wrote Walter. "I +wrote mother and Di yesterday, but somehow I feel as if I must write +you tonight. I hadn't intended to do any writing tonight--but I've got +to. Do you remember old Mrs. Tom Crawford over-harbour, who was always +saying that it was 'laid on her' to do such and such a thing? Well, +that is just how I feel. It's 'laid on me' to write you tonight--you, +sister and chum of mine. There are some things I want to say +before--well, before tomorrow. + +"You and Ingleside seem strangely near me tonight. It's the first time +I've felt this since I came. Always home has seemed so far away--so +hopelessly far away from this hideous welter of filth and blood. But +tonight it is quite close to me--it seems to me I can almost see +you--hear you speak. And I can see the moonlight shining white and +still on the old hills of home. It has seemed to me ever since I came +here that it was impossible that there could be calm gentle nights and +unshattered moonlight anywhere in the world. But tonight somehow, all +the beautiful things I have always loved seem to have become possible +again--and this is good, and makes me feel a deep, certain, exquisite +happiness. It must be autumn at home now--the harbour is a-dream and +the old Glen hills blue with haze, and Rainbow Valley a haunt of +delight with wild asters blowing all over it--our old +"farewell-summers." I always liked that name better than 'aster'--it +was a poem in itself. + +"Rilla, you know I've always had premonitions. You remember the Pied +Piper--but no, of course you wouldn't--you were too young. One evening +long ago when Nan and Di and Jem and the Merediths and I were together +in Rainbow Valley I had a queer vision or presentiment--whatever you +like to call it. Rilla, I saw the Piper coming down the Valley with a +shadowy host behind him. The others thought I was only pretending--but +I saw him for just one moment. And Rilla, last night I saw him again. I +was doing sentry-go and I saw him marching across No-man's-land from +our trenches to the German trenches--the same tall shadowy form, piping +weirdly--and behind him followed boys in khaki. Rilla, I tell you I saw +him--it was no fancy--no illusion. I heard his music, and then--he was +gone. But I had seen him--and I knew what it meant--I knew that I was +among those who followed him. + +"Rilla, the Piper will pipe me 'west' tomorrow. I feel sure of this. +And Rilla, I'm not afraid. When you hear the news, remember that. I've +won my own freedom here--freedom from all fear. I shall never be afraid +of anything again--not of death--nor of life, if after all, I am to go +on living. And life, I think, would be the harder of the two to +face--for it could never be beautiful for me again. There would always +be such horrible things to remember--things that would make life ugly +and painful always for me. I could never forget them. But whether it's +life or death, I'm not afraid, Rilla-my-Rilla, and I am not sorry that +I came. I'm satisfied. I'll never write the poems I once dreamed of +writing--but I've helped to make Canada safe for the poets of the +future--for the workers of the future--ay, and the dreamers, too--for +if no man dreams, there will be nothing for the workers to fulfil--the +future, not of Canada only but of the world--when the 'red rain' of +Langemarck and Verdun shall have brought forth a golden harvest--not in +a year or two, as some foolishly think, but a generation later, when +the seed sown now shall have had time to germinate and grow. Yes, I'm +glad I came, Rilla. It isn't only the fate of the little sea-born +island I love that is in the balance--nor of Canada nor of England. +It's the fate of mankind. That is what we're fighting for. And we shall +win--never for a moment doubt that, Rilla. For it isn't only the living +who are fighting--the dead are fighting too. Such an army cannot be +defeated. + +"Is there laughter in your face yet, Rilla? I hope so. The world will +need laughter and courage more than ever in the years that will come +next. I don't want to preach--this isn't any time for it. But I just +want to say something that may help you over the worst when you hear +that I've gone 'west.' I've a premonition about you, Rilla, as well as +about myself. I think Ken will go back to you--and that there are long +years of happiness for you by-and-by. And you will tell your children +of the Idea we fought and died for--teach them it must be lived for as +well as died for, else the price paid for it will have been given for +nought. This will be part of your work, Rilla. And if you--all you +girls back in the homeland--do it, then we who don't come back will +know that you have not 'broken faith' with us. + +"I meant to write to Una tonight, too, but I won't have time now. Read +this letter to her and tell her it's really meant for you both--you two +dear, fine loyal girls. Tomorrow, when we go over the top--I'll think +of you both--of your laughter, Rilla-my-Rilla, and the steadfastness in +Una's blue eyes--somehow I see those eyes very plainly tonight, too. +Yes, you'll both keep faith--I'm sure of that--you and Una. And +so--goodnight. We go over the top at dawn." + +Rilla read her letter over many times. There was a new light on her +pale young face when she finally stood up, amid the asters Walter had +loved, with the sunshine of autumn around her. For the moment at least, +she was lifted above pain and loneliness. + +"I will keep faith, Walter," she said steadily. "I will work--and +teach--and learn--and laugh, yes, I will even laugh--through all my +years, because of you and because of what you gave when you followed +the call." + +Rilla meant to keep Walter's letter as a a sacred treasure. But, seeing +the look on Una Meredith's face when Una had read it and held it back +to her, she thought of something. Could she do it? Oh, no, she could +not give up Walter's letter--his last letter. Surely it was not +selfishness to keep it. A copy would be such a soulless thing. But +Una--Una had so little--and her eyes were the eyes of a woman stricken +to the heart, who yet must not cry out or ask for sympathy. + +"Una, would you like to have this letter--to keep?" she asked slowly. + +"Yes--if you can give it to me," Una said dully. + +"Then--you may have it," said Rilla hurriedly. + +"Thank you," said Una. It was all she said, but there was something in +her voice which repaid Rilla for her bit of sacrifice. + +Una took the letter and when Rilla had gone she pressed it against her +lonely lips. Una knew that love would never come into her life now--it +was buried for ever under the blood-stained soil "Somewhere in France." +No one but herself--and perhaps Rilla--knew it--would ever know it. She +had no right in the eyes of her world to grieve. She must hide and bear +her long pain as best she could--alone. But she, too, would keep faith. + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +MARY IS JUST IN TIME + +The autumn of 1916 was a bitter season for Ingleside. Mrs. Blythe's +return to health was slow, and sorrow and loneliness were in all +hearts. Every one tried to hide it from the others and "carry on" +cheerfully. Rilla laughed a good deal. Nobody at Ingleside was deceived +by her laughter; it came from her lips only, never from her heart. But +outsiders said some people got over trouble very easily, and Irene +Howard remarked that she was surprised to find how shallow Rilla Blythe +really was. "Why, after all her pose of being so devoted to Walter, she +doesn't seem to mind his death at all. Nobody has ever seen her shed a +tear or heard her mention his name. She has evidently quite forgotten +him. Poor fellow--you'd really think his family would feel it more. I +spoke of him to Rilla at the last Junior Red meeting--of how fine and +brave and splendid he was--and I said life could never be just the same +to me again, now that Walter had gone--we were such friends, you +know--why I was the very first person he told about having +enlisted--and Rilla answered, as coolly and indifferently as if she +were speaking of an entire stranger, 'He was just one of many fine and +splendid boys who have given everything for their country.' Well, I +wish I could take things as calmly--but I'm not made like that. I'm so +sensitive--things hurt me terribly--I really never get over them. I +asked Rilla right out why she didn't put on mourning for Walter. She +said her mother didn't wish it. But every one is talking about it." + +"Rilla doesn't wear colours--nothing but white," protested Betty Mead. + +"White becomes her better than anything else," said Irene +significantly. "And we all know black doesn't suit her complexion at +all. But of course I'm not saying that is the reason she doesn't wear +it. Only, it's funny. If my brother had died I'd have gone into deep +mourning. I wouldn't have had the heart for anything else. I confess +I'm disappointed in Rilla Blythe." + +"I am not, then," cried Betty Meade, loyally, "I think Rilla is just a +wonderful girl. A few years ago I admit I did think she was rather too +vain and gigglesome; but now she is nothing of the sort. I don't think +there is a girl in the Glen who is so unselfish and plucky as Rilla, or +who has done her bit as thoroughly and patiently. Our Junior Red Cross +would have gone on the rocks a dozen times if it hadn't been for her +tact and perseverance and enthusiasm--you know that perfectly well, +Irene." + +"Why, I am not running Rilla down," said Irene, opening her eyes +widely. "It was only her lack of feeling I was criticizing. I suppose +she can't help it. Of course, she's a born manager--everyone knows +that. She's very fond of managing, too--and people like that are very +necessary I admit. So don't look at me as if I'd said something +perfectly dreadful, Betty, please. I'm quite willing to agree that +Rilla Blythe is the embodiment of all the virtues, if that will please +you. And no doubt it is a virtue to be quite unmoved by things that +would crush most people." + +Some of Irene's remarks were reported to Rilla; but they did not hurt +her as they would once have done. They didn't matter, that was all. +Life was too big to leave room for pettiness. She had a pact to keep +and a work to do; and through the long hard days and weeks of that +disastrous autumn she was faithful to her task. The war news was +consistently bad, for Germany marched from victory to victory over poor +Rumania. "Foreigners--foreigners," Susan muttered dubiously. "Russians +or Rumanians or whatever they may be, they are foreigners and you +cannot tie to them. But after Verdun I shall not give up hope. And can +you tell me, Mrs. Dr. dear, if the Dobruja is a river or a mountain +range, or a condition of the atmosphere?" + +The Presidential election in the United States came off in November, +and Susan was red-hot over that--and quite apologetic for her +excitement. + +"I never thought I would live to see the day when I would be interested +in a Yankee election, Mrs. Dr. dear. It only goes to show we can never +know what we will come to in this world, and therefore we should not be +proud." + +Susan stayed up late on the evening of the eleventh, ostensibly to +finish a pair of socks. But she 'phoned down to Carter Flagg's store at +intervals, and when the first report came through that Hughes had been +elected she stalked solemnly upstairs to Mrs. Blythe's room and +announced it in a thrilling whisper from the foot of the bed. + +"I thought if you were not asleep you would be interested in knowing +it. I believe it is for the best. Perhaps he will just fall to writing +notes, too, Mrs. Dr. dear, but I hope for better things. I never was +very partial to whiskers, but one cannot have everything." + +When news came in the morning that after all Wilson was re-elected, +Susan tacked to catch another breeze of optimism. + +"Well, better a fool you know than a fool you do not know, as the old +proverb has it," she remarked cheerfully. "Not that I hold Woodrow to +be a fool by any means, though by times you would not think he has the +sense he was born with. But he is a good letter writer at least, and we +do not know if the Hughes man is even that. All things being considered +I commend the Yankees. They have shown good sense and I do not mind +admitting it. Cousin Sophia wanted them to elect Roosevelt, and is much +disgruntled because they would not give him a chance. I had a hankering +for him myself, but we must believe that Providence over-rules these +matters and be satisfied--though what the Almighty means in this affair +of Rumania I cannot fathom--saying it with all reverence." + +Susan fathomed it--or thought she did--when the Asquith ministry went +down and Lloyd George became Premier. + +"Mrs. Dr. dear, Lloyd George is at the helm at last. I have been +praying for this for many a day. Now we shall soon see a blessed +change. It took the Rumanian disaster to bring it about, no less, and +that is the meaning of it, though I could not see it before. There will +be no more shilly-shallying. I consider that the war is as good as won, +and that I shall tie to, whether Bucharest falls or not." + +Bucharest did fall--and Germany proposed peace negotiations. Whereat +Susan scornfully turned a deaf ear and absolutely refused to listen to +such proposals. When President Wilson sent his famous December peace +note Susan waxed violently sarcastic. + +"Woodrow Wilson is going to make peace, I understand. First Henry Ford +had a try at it and now comes Wilson. But peace is not made with ink, +Woodrow, and that you may tie to," said Susan, apostrophizing the +unlucky President out of the kitchen window nearest the United States. +"Lloyd George's speech will tell the Kaiser what is what, and you may +keep your peace screeds at home and save postage." + +"What a pity President Wilson can't hear you, Susan," said Rilla slyly. + +"Indeed, Rilla dear, it is a pity that he has no one near him to give +him good advice, as it is clear he has not, in all those Democrats and +Republicans," retorted Susan. "I do not know the difference between +them, for the politics of the Yankees is a puzzle I cannot solve, study +it as I may. But as far as seeing through a grindstone goes, I am +afraid--" Susan shook her head dubiously, "that they are all tarred +with the same brush." + +"I am thankful Christmas is over," Rilla wrote in her diary during the +last week of a stormy December. "We had dreaded it so--the first +Christmas since Courcelette. But we had all the Merediths down for +dinner and nobody tried to be gay or cheerful. We were all just quiet +and friendly, and that helped. Then, too, I was so thankful that Jims +had got better--so thankful that I almost felt glad--almost but not +quite. I wonder if I shall ever feel really glad over anything again. +It seems as if gladness were killed in me--shot down by the same bullet +that pierced Walter's heart. Perhaps some day a new kind of gladness +will be born in my soul--but the old kind will never live again. + +"Winter set in awfully early this year. Ten days before Christmas we +had a big snowstorm--at least we thought it big at the time. As it +happened, it was only a prelude to the real performance. It was fine +the next day, and Ingleside and Rainbow Valley were wonderful, with the +trees all covered with snow, and big drifts everywhere, carved into the +most fantastic shapes by the chisel of the northeast wind. Father and +mother went up to Avonlea. Father thought the change would do mother +good, and they wanted to see poor Aunt Diana, whose son Jock had been +seriously wounded a short time before. They left Susan and me to keep +house, and father expected to be back the next day. But he never got +back for a week. That night it began to storm again, and it stormed +unbrokenly for four days. It was the worst and longest storm that +Prince Edward Island has known for years. Everything was +disorganized--the roads were completely choked up, the trains +blockaded, and the telephone wires put entirely out of commission. + +"And then Jims took ill. + +"He had a little cold when father and mother went away, and he kept +getting worse for a couple of days, but it didn't occur to me that +there was danger of anything serious. I never even took his +temperature, and I can't forgive myself, because it was sheer +carelessness. The truth is I had slumped just then. Mother was away, so +I let myself go. All at once I was tired of keeping up and pretending +to be brave and cheerful, and I just gave up for a few days and spent +most of the time lying on my face on my bed, crying. I neglected +Jims--that is the hateful truth--I was cowardly and false to what I +promised Walter--and if Jims had died I could never have forgiven +myself. + +"Then, the third night after father and mother went away, Jims suddenly +got worse--oh, so much worse--all at once. Susan and I were all alone. +Gertrude had been at Lowbridge when the storm began and had never got +back. At first we were not much alarmed. Jims has had several bouts of +croup and Susan and Morgan and I have always brought him through +without much trouble. But it wasn't very long before we were dreadfully +alarmed. + +"'I never saw croup like this before,' said Susan. + +"As for me, I knew, when it was too late, what kind of croup it was. I +knew it was not the ordinary croup--'false croup' as doctors call +it--but the 'true croup'--and I knew that it was a deadly and dangerous +thing. And father was away and there was no doctor nearer than +Lowbridge--and we could not 'phone and neither horse nor man could get +through the drifts that night. + +"Gallant little Jims put up a good fight for his life,--Susan and I +tried every remedy we could think of or find in father's books, but he +continued to grow worse. It was heart-rending to see and hear him. He +gasped so horribly for breath--the poor little soul--and his face +turned a dreadful bluish colour and had such an agonized expression, +and he kept struggling with his little hands, as if he were appealing +to us to help him somehow. I found myself thinking that the boys who +had been gassed at the front must have looked like that, and the +thought haunted me amid all my dread and misery over Jims. And all the +time the fatal membrane in his wee throat grew and thickened and he +couldn't get it up. + +"Oh, I was just wild! I never realized how dear Jims was to me until +that moment. And I felt so utterly helpless." + +"And then Susan gave up. 'We cannot save him! Oh, if your father was +here--look at him, the poor little fellow! I know not what to do.' + +"I looked at Jims and I thought he was dying. Susan was holding him up +in his crib to give him a better chance for breath, but it didn't seem +as if he could breathe at all. My little war-baby, with his dear ways +and sweet roguish face, was choking to death before my very eyes, and I +couldn't help him. I threw down the hot poultice I had ready in +despair. Of what use was it? Jims was dying, and it was my fault--I +hadn't been careful enough! + +"Just then--at eleven o'clock at night--the door bell rang. Such a +ring--it pealed all over the house above the roar of the storm. Susan +couldn't go--she dared not lay Jims down--so I rushed downstairs. In +the hall I paused just a minute--I was suddenly overcome by an absurd +dread. I thought of a weird story Gertrude had told me once. An aunt of +hers was alone in a house one night with her sick husband. She heard a +knock at the door. And when she went and opened it there was nothing +there--nothing that could be seen, at least. But when she opened the +door a deadly cold wind blew in and seemed to sweep past her right up +the stairs, although it was a calm, warm summer night outside. +Immediately she heard a cry. She ran upstairs--and her husband was +dead. And she always believed, so Gertrude said, that when she opened +that door she let Death in. + +"It was so ridiculous of me to feel so frightened. But I was distracted +and worn out, and I simply felt for a moment that I dared not open the +door--that death was waiting outside. Then I remembered that I had no +time to waste--must not be so foolish--I sprang forward and opened the +door. + +"Certainly a cold wind did blow in and filled the hall with a whirl of +snow. But there on the threshold stood a form of flesh and blood--Mary +Vance, coated from head to foot with snow--and she brought Life, not +Death, with her, though I didn't know that then. I just stared at her. + +"'I haven't been turned out,' grinned Mary, as she stepped in and shut +the door. 'I came up to Carter Flagg's two days ago and I've been +stormed-stayed there ever since. But old Abbie Flagg got on my nerves +at last, and tonight I just made up my mind to come up here. I thought +I could wade this far, but I can tell you it was as much as a bargain. +Once I thought I was stuck for keeps. Ain't it an awful night?' + +"I came to myself and knew I must hurry upstairs. I explained as +quickly as I could to Mary, and left her trying to brush the snow off. +Upstairs I found that Jims was over that paroxysm, but almost as soon +as I got back to the room he was in the grip of another. I couldn't do +anything but moan and cry--oh, how ashamed I am when I think of it; and +yet what could I do--we had tried everything we knew--and then all at +once I heard Mary Vance saying loudly behind me, 'Why, that child is +dying!' + +"I whirled around. Didn't I know he was dying--my little Jims! I could +have thrown Mary Vance out of the door or the window--anywhere--at that +moment. There she stood, cool and composed, looking down at my baby, +with those, weird white eyes of hers, as she might look at a choking +kitten. I had always disliked Mary Vance--and just then I hated her. + +"'We have tried everything,' said poor Susan dully. 'It is not ordinary +croup.' + +"'No, it's the dipthery croup,' said Mary briskly, snatching up an +apron. 'And there's mighty little time to lose--but I know what to do. +When I lived over-harbour with Mrs. Wiley, years ago, Will Crawford's +kid died of dipthery croup, in spite of two doctors. And when old Aunt +Christina MacAllister heard of it--she was the one brought me round +when I nearly died of pneumonia you know--she was a wonder--no doctor +was a patch on her--they don't hatch her breed of cats nowadays, let me +tell you--she said she could have saved him with her grandmother's +remedy if she'd been there. She told Mrs. Wiley what it was and I've +never forgot it. I've the greatest memory ever--a thing just lies in +the back of my head till the time comes to use it. Got any sulphur in +the house, Susan?' + +"Yes, we had sulphur. Susan went down with Mary to get it, and I held +Jims. I hadn't any hope--not the least. Mary Vance might brag as she +liked--she was always bragging--but I didn't believe any grandmother's +remedy could save Jims now. Presently Mary came back. She had tied a +piece of thick flannel over her mouth and nose, and she carried Susan's +old tin chip pan, half full of burning coals. + +"'You watch me,' she said boastfully. 'I've never done this, but it's +kill or cure that child is dying anyway.' + +"She sprinkled a spoonful of sulphur over the coals; and then she +picked up Jims, turned him over, and held him face downward, right over +those choking, blinding fumes. I don't know why I didn't spring forward +and snatch him away. Susan says it was because it was fore-ordained +that I shouldn't, and I think she is right, because it did really seem +that I was powerless to move. Susan herself seemed transfixed, watching +Mary from the doorway. Jims writhed in those big, firm, capable hands +of Mary--oh yes, she is capable all right--and choked and wheezed--and +choked and wheezed--and I felt that he was being tortured to death--and +then all at once, after what seemed to me an hour, though it really +wasn't long, he coughed up the membrane that was killing him. Mary +turned him over and laid him back on his bed. He was white as marble +and the tears were pouring out of his brown eyes--but that awful livid +look was gone from his face and he could breathe quite easily. + +"'Wasn't that some trick?' said Mary gaily. 'I hadn't any idea how it +would work, but I just took a chance. I'll smoke his throat out again +once or twice before morning, just to kill all the germs, but you'll +see he'll be all right now.' + +"Jims went right to sleep--real sleep, not coma, as I feared at first. +Mary 'smoked him,' as she called it, twice through the night, and at +daylight his throat was perfectly clear and his temperature was almost +normal. When I made sure of that I turned and looked at Mary Vance. She +was sitting on the lounge laying down the law to Susan on some subject +about which Susan must have known forty times as much as she did. But I +didn't mind how much law she laid down or how much she bragged. She had +a right to brag--she had dared to do what I would never have dared, and +had saved Jims from a horrible death. It didn't matter any more that +she had once chased me through the Glen with a codfish; it didn't +matter that she had smeared goose-grease all over my dream of romance +the night of the lighthouse dance; it didn't matter that she thought +she knew more than anybody else and always rubbed it in--I would never +dislike Mary Vance again. I went over to her and kissed her. + +"'What's up now?' she said. + +"'Nothing--only I'm so grateful to you, Mary.' + +"'Well, I think you ought to be, that's a fact. You two would have let +that baby die on your hands if I hadn't happened along,' said Mary, +just beaming with complacency. She got Susan and me a tip-top breakfast +and made us eat it, and 'bossed the life out of us,' as Susan says, for +two days, until the roads were opened so that she could get home. Jims +was almost well by that time, and father turned up. He heard our tale +without saying much. Father is rather scornful generally about what he +calls 'old wives' remedies.' He laughed a little and said, 'After this, +Mary Vance will expect me to call her in for consultation in all my +serious cases.' + +"So Christmas was not so hard as I expected it to be; and now the New +Year is coming--and we are still hoping for the 'Big Push' that will +end the war--and Little Dog Monday is getting stiff and rheumatic from +his cold vigils, but still he 'carries on,' and Shirley continues to +read the exploits of the aces. Oh, nineteen-seventeen, what will you +bring?" + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +SHIRLEY GOES + +"No, Woodrow, there will be no peace without victory," said Susan, +sticking her knitting needle viciously through President Wilson's name +in the newspaper column. "We Canadians mean to have peace and victory, +too. You, if it pleases you, Woodrow, can have the peace without the +victory"--and Susan stalked off to bed with the comfortable +consciousness of having got the better of the argument with the +President. But a few days later she rushed to Mrs. Blythe in red-hot +excitement. + +"Mrs. Dr. dear, what do you think? A 'phone message has just come +through from Charlottetown that Woodrow Wilson has sent that German +ambassador man to the right about at last. They tell me that means war. +So I begin to think that Woodrow's heart is in the right place after +all, wherever his head may be, and I am going to commandeer a little +sugar and celebrate the occasion with some fudge, despite the howls of +the Food Board. I thought that submarine business would bring things to +a crisis. I told Cousin Sophia so when she said it was the beginning of +the end for the Allies." + +"Don't let the doctor hear of the fudge, Susan," said Anne, with a +smile. "You know he has laid down very strict rules for us along the +lines of economy the government has asked for." + +"Yes, Mrs. Dr. dear, and a man should be master in his own household, +and his women folk should bow to his decrees. I flatter myself that I +am becoming quite efficient in economizing"--Susan had taken to using +certain German terms with killing effect--"but one can exercise a +little gumption on the quiet now and then. Shirley was wishing for some +of my fudge the other day--the Susan brand, as he called it--and I said +'The first victory there is to celebrate I shall make you some.' I +consider this news quite equal to a victory, and what the doctor does +not know will never grieve him. I take the whole responsibility, Mrs. +Dr. dear, so do not you vex your conscience." + +Susan spoiled Shirley shamelessly that winter. He came home from +Queen's every week-end, and Susan had all his favourite dishes for him, +in so far as she could evade or wheedle the doctor, and waited on him +hand and foot. Though she talked war constantly to everyone else she +never mentioned it to him or before him, but she watched him like a cat +watching a mouse; and when the German retreat from the Bapaume salient +began and continued, Susan's exultation was linked up with something +deeper than anything she expressed. Surely the end was in sight--would +come now before--anyone else--could go. + +"Things are coming our way at last. We have got the Germans on the +run," she boasted. "The United States has declared war at last, as I +always believed they would, in spite of Woodrow's gift for letter +writing, and you will see they will go into it with a vim since I +understand that is their habit, when they do start. And we have got the +Germans on the run, too." + +"The States mean well," moaned Cousin Sophia, "but all the vim in the +world cannot put them on the fighting line this spring, and the Allies +will be finished before that. The Germans are just luring them on. That +man Simonds says their retreat has put the Allies in a hole." + +"That man Simonds has said more than he will ever live to make good," +retorted Susan. "I do not worry myself about his opinion as long as +Lloyd George is Premier of England. He will not be bamboozled and that +you may tie to. Things look good to me. The U. S. is in the war, and we +have got Kut and Bagdad back--and I would not be surprised to see the +Allies in Berlin by June--and the Russians, too, since they have got +rid of the Czar. That, in my opinion was a good piece of work." + +"Time will show if it is," said Cousin Sophia, who would have been very +indignant if anyone had told her that she would rather see Susan put to +shame as a seer, than a successful overthrow of tyranny, or even the +march of the Allies down Unter den Linden. But then the woes of the +Russian people were quite unknown to Cousin Sophia, while this +aggravating, optimistic Susan was an ever-present thorn in her side. + +Just at that moment Shirley was sitting on the edge of the table in the +living-room, swinging his legs--a brown, ruddy, wholesome lad, from top +to toe, every inch of him--and saying coolly, "Mother and dad, I was +eighteen last Monday. Don't you think it's about time I joined up?" + +The pale mother looked at him. + +"Two of my sons have gone and one will never return. Must I give you +too, Shirley?" + +The age-old cry--"Joseph is not and Simeon is not; and ye will take +Benjamin away." How the mothers of the Great War echoed the old +Patriarch's moan of so many centuries agone! + +"You wouldn't have me a slacker, mother? I can get into the +flying-corps. What say, dad?" + +The doctor's hands were not quite steady as he folded up the powders he +was concocting for Abbie Flagg's rheumatism. He had known this moment +was coming, yet he was not altogether prepared for it. He answered +slowly, "I won't try to hold you back from what you believe to be your +duty. But you must not go unless your mother says you may." + +Shirley said nothing more. He was not a lad of many words. Anne did not +say anything more just then, either. She was thinking of little Joyce's +grave in the old burying-ground over-harbour--little Joyce who would +have been a woman now, had she lived--of the white cross in France and +the splendid grey eyes of the little boy who had been taught his first +lessons of duty and loyalty at her knee--of Jem in the terrible +trenches--of Nan and Di and Rilla, waiting--waiting--waiting, while the +golden years of youth passed by--and she wondered if she could bear any +more. She thought not; surely she had given enough. + +Yet that night she told Shirley that he might go. + +They did not tell Susan right away. She did not know it until, a few +days later, Shirley presented himself in her kitchen in his aviation +uniform. Susan didn't make half the fuss she had made when Jem and +Walter had gone. She said stonily, "So they're going to take you, too." + +"Take me? No. I'm going, Susan--got to." + +Susan sat down by the table, folded her knotted old hands, that had +grown warped and twisted working for the Ingleside children to still +their shaking, and said: + +"Yes, you must go. I did not see once why such things must be, but I +can see now." + +"You're a brick, Susan," said Shirley. He was relieved that she took it +so coolly--he had been a little afraid, with a boy's horror of "a +scene." He went out whistling gaily; but half an hour later, when pale +Anne Blythe came in, Susan was still sitting there. + +"Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan, making an admission she would once have +died rather than make, "I feel very old. Jem and Walter were yours but +Shirley is mine. And I cannot bear to think of him flying--his machine +crashing down--the life crushed out of his body--the dear little body I +nursed and cuddled when he was a wee baby." + +"Susan--don't," cried Anne. + +"Oh, Mrs. Dr. dear, I beg your pardon. I ought not to have said +anything like that out loud. I sometimes forget that I resolved to be a +heroine. This--this has shaken me a little. But I will not forget +myself again. Only if things do not go as smoothly in the kitchen for a +few days I hope you will make due allowance for me. At least," said +poor Susan, forcing a grim smile in a desperate effort to recover lost +standing, "at least flying is a clean job. He will not get so dirty and +messed up as he would in the trenches, and that is well, for he has +always been a tidy child." + +So Shirley went--not radiantly, as to a high adventure, like Jem, not +in a white flame of sacrifice, like Walter, but in a cool, +business-like mood, as of one doing something, rather dirty and +disagreeable, that had just got to be done. He kissed Susan for the +first time since he was five years old, and said, "Good-bye, +Susan--mother Susan." + +"My little brown boy--my little brown boy," said Susan. "I wonder," she +thought bitterly, as she looked at the doctor's sorrowful face, "if you +remember how you spanked him once when he was a baby. I am thankful I +have nothing like that on my conscience now." + +The doctor did not remember the old discipline. But before he put on +his hat to go out on his round of calls he stood for a moment in the +great silent living-room that had once been full of children's laughter. + +"Our last son--our last son," he said aloud. "A good, sturdy, sensible +lad, too. Always reminded me of my father. I suppose I ought to be +proud that he wanted to go--I was proud when Jem went--even when Walter +went--but 'our house is left us desolate.'" + +"I have been thinking, doctor," old Sandy of the Upper Glen said to him +that afternoon, "that your house will be seeming very big the day." + +Highland Sandy's quaint phrase struck the doctor as perfectly +expressive. Ingleside did seem very big and empty that night. Yet +Shirley had been away all winter except for week-ends, and had always +been a quiet fellow even when home. Was it because he had been the only +one left that his going seemed to leave such a huge blank--that every +room seemed vacant and deserted--that the very trees on the lawn seemed +to be trying to comfort each other with caresses of freshly-budding +boughs for the loss of the last of the little lads who had romped under +them in childhood? + +Susan worked very hard all day and late into the night. When she had +wound the kitchen clock and put Dr. Jekyll out, none too gently, she +stood for a little while on the doorstep, looking down the Glen, which +lay tranced in faint, silvery light from a sinking young moon. But +Susan did not see the familiar hills and harbour. She was looking at +the aviation camp in Kingsport where Shirley was that night. + +"He called me 'Mother Susan,'" she was thinking. "Well, all our men +folk have gone now--Jem and Walter and Shirley and Jerry and Carl. And +none of them had to be driven to it. So we have a right to be proud. +But pride--" Susan sighed bitterly--"pride is cold company and that +there is no gainsaying." + +The moon sank lower into a black cloud in the west, the Glen went out +in an eclipse of sudden shadow--and thousands of miles away the +Canadian boys in khaki--the living and the dead--were in possession of +Vimy Ridge. + +Vimy Ridge is a name written in crimson and gold on the Canadian annals +of the Great War. "The British couldn't take it and the French couldn't +take it," said a German prisoner to his captors, "but you Canadians are +such fools that you don't know when a place can't be taken!" + +So the "fools" took it--and paid the price. + +Jerry Meredith was seriously wounded at Vimy Ridge--shot in the back, +the telegram said. + +"Poor Nan," said Mrs. Blythe, when the news came. She thought of her +own happy girlhood at old Green Gables. There had been no tragedy like +this in it. How the girls of to-day had to suffer! When Nan came home +from Redmond two weeks later her face showed what those weeks had meant +to her. John Meredith, too, seemed to have grown old suddenly in them. +Faith did not come home; she was on her way across the Atlantic as a +V.A.D. Di had tried to wring from her father consent to her going also, +but had been told that for her mother's sake it could not be given. So +Di, after a flying visit home, went back to her Red Cross work in +Kingsport. + +The mayflowers bloomed in the secret nooks of Rainbow Valley. Rilla was +watching for them. Jem had once taken his mother the earliest +mayflowers; Walter brought them to her when Jem was gone; last spring +Shirley had sought them out for her; now, Rilla thought she must take +the boys' place in this. But before she had discovered any, Bruce +Meredith came to Ingleside one twilight with his hands full of delicate +pink sprays. He stalked up the steps of the veranda and laid them on +Mrs. Blythe's lap. + +"Because Shirley isn't here to bring them," he said in his funny, shy, +blunt way. + +"And you thought of this, you darling," said Anne, her lips quivering, +as she looked at the stocky, black-browed little chap, standing before +her, with his hands thrust into his pockets. + +"I wrote Jem to-day and told him not to worry 'bout you not getting +your mayflowers," said Bruce seriously, "'cause I'd see to that. And I +told him I would be ten pretty soon now, so it won't be very long +before I'll be eighteen, and then I'll go to help him fight, and maybe +let him come home for a rest while I took his place. I wrote Jerry, +too. Jerry's getting better, you know." + +"Is he? Have you had any good news about him?" + +"Yes. Mother had a letter to-day, and it said he was out of danger." + +"Oh, thank God," murmured Mrs. Blythe, in a half-whisper. + +Bruce looked at her curiously. + +"That is what father said when mother told him. But when l said it the +other day when I found out Mr. Mead's dog hadn't hurt my kitten--I +thought he had shooken it to death, you know--father looked awful +solemn and said I must never say that again about a kitten. But I +couldn't understand why, Mrs. Blythe. I felt awful thankful, and it +must have been God that saved Stripey, because that Mead dog had +'normous jaws, and oh, how it shook poor Stripey. And so why couldn't I +thank Him? 'Course," added Bruce reminiscently, "maybe I said it too +loud--'cause I was awful glad and excited when I found Stripey was all +right. I 'most shouted it, Mrs. Blythe. Maybe if I'd said it sort of +whispery like you and father it would have been all right. Do you know, +Mrs. Blythe"--Bruce dropped to a "whispery" tone, edging a little +nearer to Anne--"what I would like to do to the Kaiser if I could?" + +"What would you like to do, laddie?" + +"Norman Reese said in school to-day that he would like to tie the +Kaiser to a tree and set cross dogs to worrying him," said Bruce +gravely. "And Emily Flagg said she would like to put him in a cage and +poke sharp things into him. And they all said things like that. But +Mrs. Blythe"--Bruce took a little square paw out of his pocket and put +it earnestly on Anne's knee--"I would like to turn the Kaiser into a +good man--a very good man--all at once if I could. That is what I would +do. Don't you think, Mrs. Blythe, that would be the very worstest +punishment of all?" + +"Bless the child," said Susan, "how do you make out that would be any +kind of a punishment for that wicked fiend?" + +"Don't you see," said Bruce, looking levelly at Susan, out of his +blackly blue eyes, "if he was turned into a good man he would +understand how dreadful the things he has done are, and he would feel +so terrible about it that he would be more unhappy and miserable than +he could ever be in any other way. He would feel just awful--and he +would go on feeling like that forever. Yes"--Bruce clenched his hands +and nodded his head emphatically, "yes, I would make the Kaiser a good +man--that is what I would do--it would serve him 'zackly right." + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +SUSAN HAS A PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE + +An aeroplane was flying over Glen St. Mary, like a great bird poised +against the western sky--a sky so clear and of such a pale, silvery +yellow, that it gave an impression of a vast, wind-freshened space of +freedom. The little group on the Ingleside lawn looked up at it with +fascinated eyes, although it was by no means an unusual thing to see an +occasional hovering plane that summer. Susan was always intensely +excited. Who knew but that it might be Shirley away up there in the +clouds, flying over to the Island from Kingsport? But Shirley had gone +overseas now, so Susan was not so keenly interested in this particular +aeroplane and its pilot. Nevertheless, she looked at it with awe. + +"I wonder, Mrs. Dr. dear," she said solemnly, "what the old folks down +there in the graveyard would think if they could rise out of their +graves for one moment and behold that sight. I am sure my father would +disapprove of it, for he was a man who did not believe in new-fangled +ideas of any sort. He always cut his grain with a reaping hook to the +day of his death. A mower he would not have. What was good enough for +his father was good enough for him, he used to say. I hope it is not +unfilial to say that I think he was wrong in that point of view, but I +am not sure I go so far as to approve of aeroplanes, though they may be +a military necessity. If the Almighty had meant us to fly he would have +provided us with wings. Since He did not it is plain He meant us to +stick to the solid earth. At any rate, you will never see me, Mrs. Dr. +dear, cavorting through the sky in an aeroplane." + +"But you won't refuse to cavort a bit in father's new automobile when +it comes, will you, Susan?" teased Rilla. + +"I do not expect to trust my old bones in automobiles, either," +retorted Susan. "But I do not look upon them as some narrow-minded +people do. Whiskers-on-the-moon says the Government should be turned +out of office for permitting them to run on the Island at all. He foams +at the mouth, they tell me, when he sees one. The other day he saw one +coming along that narrow side-road by his wheatfield, and Whiskers +bounded over the fence and stood right in the middle of the road, with +his pitchfork. The man in the machine was an agent of some kind, and +Whiskers hates agents as much as he hates automobiles. He made the car +come to a halt, because there was not room to pass him on either side, +and the agent could not actually run over him. Then he raised his +pitchfork and shouted, 'Get out of this with your devil-machine or I +will run this pitchfork clean through you.' And Mrs. Dr. dear, if you +will believe me, that poor agent had to back his car clean out to the +Lowbridge road, nearly a mile, Whiskers following him every step, +shaking his pitchfork and bellowing insults. Now, Mrs. Dr. dear, I call +such conduct unreasonable; but all the same," added Susan, with a sigh, +"what with aeroplanes and automobiles and all the rest of it, this +Island is not what it used to be." + +The aeroplane soared and dipped and circled, and soared again, until it +became a mere speck far over the sunset hills. + +"'With the majesty of pinion Which the Theban eagles bear Sailing with +supreme dominion Through the azure fields of air.'" + +quoted Anne Blythe dreamily. + +"I wonder," said Miss Oliver, "if humanity will be any happier because +of aeroplanes. It seems to me that the sum of human happiness remains +much the same from age to age, no matter how it may vary in +distribution, and that all the 'many inventions' neither lessen nor +increase it." + +"After all, the 'kingdom of heaven is within you,'" said Mr. Meredith, +gazing after the vanishing speck which symbolized man's latest victory +in a world-old struggle. "It does not depend on material achievements +and triumphs." + +"Nevertheless, an aeroplane is a fascinating thing," said the doctor. +"It has always been one of humanity's favourite dreams--the dream of +flying. Dream after dream comes true--or rather is made true by +persevering effort. I should like to have a flight in an aeroplane +myself." + +"Shirley wrote me that he was dreadfully disappointed in his first +flight," said Rilla. "He had expected to experience the sensation of +soaring up from the earth like a bird--and instead he just had the +feeling that he wasn't moving at all, but that the earth was dropping +away under him. And the first time he went up alone he suddenly felt +terribly homesick. He had never felt like that before; but all at once, +he said, he felt as if he were adrift in space--and he had a wild +desire to get back home to the old planet and the companionship of +fellow creatures. He soon got over that feeling, but he says his first +flight alone was a nightmare to him because of that dreadful sensation +of ghastly loneliness." + +The aeroplane disappeared. The doctor threw back his head with a sigh. + +"When I have watched one of those bird-men out of sight I come back to +earth with an odd feeling of being merely a crawling insect. Anne," he +said, turning to his wife, "do you remember the first time I took you +for a buggy ride in Avonlea--that night we went to the Carmody concert, +the first fall you taught in Avonlea? I had out little black mare with +the white star on her forehead, and a shining brand-new buggy--and I +was the proudest fellow in the world, barring none. I suppose our +grandson will be taking his sweetheart out quite casually for an +evening 'fly' in his aeroplane." + +"An aeroplane won't be as nice as little Silverspot was," said Anne. "A +machine is simply a machine--but Silverspot, why she was a personality, +Gilbert. A drive behind her had something in it that not even a flight +among sunset clouds could have. No, I don't envy my grandson's +sweetheart, after all. Mr. Meredith is right. 'The kingdom of +Heaven'--and of love--and of happiness--doesn't depend on externals." + +"Besides," said the doctor gravely, "our said grandson will have to +give most of his attention to the aeroplane--he won't be able to let +the reins lie on its back while he gazes into his lady's eyes. And I +have an awful suspicion that you can't run an aeroplane with one arm. +No"--the doctor shook his head--"I believe I'd still prefer Silverspot +after all." + +The Russian line broke again that summer and Susan said bitterly that +she had expected it ever since Kerensky had gone and got married. + +"Far be it from me to decry the holy state of matrimony, Mrs. Dr. dear, +but I felt that when a man was running a revolution he had his hands +full and should have postponed marriage until a more fitting season. +The Russians are done for this time and there would be no sense in +shutting our eyes to the fact. But have you seen Woodrow Wilson's reply +to the Pope's peace proposals? It is magnificent. I really could not +have expressed the rights of the matter better myself. I feel that I +can forgive Wilson everything for it. He knows the meaning of words and +that you may tie to. Speaking of meanings, have you heard the latest +story about Whiskers-on-the-moon, Mrs. Dr. dear? It seems he was over +at the Lowbridge Road school the other day and took a notion to examine +the fourth class in spelling. They have the summer term there yet, you +know, with the spring and fall vacations, being rather backward people +on that road. My niece, Ella Baker, goes to that school and she it was +who told me the story. The teacher was not feeling well, having a +dreadful headache, and she went out to get a little fresh air while Mr. +Pryor was examining the class. The children got along all right with +the spelling but when Whiskers began to question them about the +meanings of the words they were all at sea, because they had not +learned them. Ella and the other big scholars felt terrible over it. +They love their teacher so, and it seems Mr. Pryor's brother, Abel +Pryor, who is trustee of that school, is against her and has been +trying to turn the other trustees over to his way of thinking. And Ella +and the rest were afraid that if the fourth class couldn't tell +Whiskers the meanings of the words he would think the teacher was no +good and tell Abel so, and Abel would have a fine handle. But little +Sandy Logan saved the situation. He is a Home boy, but he is as smart +as a steel trap, and he sized up Whiskers-on-the-moon right off. 'What +does "anatomy" mean?' Whiskers demanded. 'A pain in your stomach,' +Sandy replied, quick as a flash and never batting an eyelid. +Whiskers-on-the-moon is a very ignorant man, Mrs. Dr. dear; he didn't +know the meaning of the words himself, and he said 'Very good--very +good.' The class caught right on--at least three or four of the +brighter ones did--and they kept up the fun. Jean Blane said that +'acoustic' meant 'a religious squabble,' and Muriel Baker said that an +'agnostic' was 'a man who had indigestion,' and Jim Carter said that +'acerbity' meant that 'you ate nothing but vegetable food,' and so on +all down the list. Whiskers swallowed it all, and kept saying 'Very +good--very good' until Ella thought that die she would trying to keep a +straight face. When the teacher came in, Whiskers complimented her on +the splendid understanding the children had of their lesson and said he +meant to tell the trustees what a jewel they had. It was 'very +unusual,' he said, to find a fourth class who could answer up so prompt +when it came to explaining what words meant. He went off beaming. But +Ella told me this as a great secret, Mrs. Dr. dear, and we must keep it +as such, for the sake of the Lowbridge Road teacher. It would likely be +the ruin of her chances of keeping the school if Whiskers should ever +find out how he had been bamboozled." + +Mary Vance came up to Ingleside that same afternoon to tell them that +Miller Douglas, who had been wounded when the Canadians took Hill 70, +had had to have his leg amputated. The Ingleside folk sympathized with +Mary, whose zeal and patriotism had taken some time to kindle but now +burned with a glow as steady and bright as any one's. + +"Some folks have been twitting me about having a husband with only one +leg. But," said Mary, rising to a lofty height, "I would rather Miller +with only one leg than any other man in the world with a +dozen--unless," she added as an after-thought, "unless it was Lloyd +George. Well, I must be going. I thought you'd be interested in hearing +about Miller so I ran up from the store, but I must hustle home for I +promised Luke MacAllister I'd help him build his grain stack this +evening. It's up to us girls to see that the harvest is got in, since +the boys are so scarce. I've got overalls and I can tell you they're +real becoming. Mrs. Alec Douglas says they're indecent and shouldn't be +allowed, and even Mrs. Elliott kinder looks askance at them. But bless +you, the world moves, and anyhow there's no fun for me like shocking +Kitty Alec." + +"By the way, father," said Rilla, "I'm going to take Jack Flagg's place +in his father's store for a month. I promised him today that I would, +if you didn't object. Then he can help the farmers get the harvest in. +I don't think I'd be much use in a harvest myself--though lots of the +girls are--but I can set Jack free while I do his work. Jims isn't much +bother in the daytime now, and I'll always be home at night." + +"Do you think you'll like weighing out sugar and beans, and trafficking +in butter and eggs?" said the doctor, twinkling. + +"Probably not. That isn't the question. It's just one way of doing my +bit." So Rilla went behind Mr. Flagg's counter for a month; and Susan +went into Albert Crawford's oat-fields. + +"I am as good as any of them yet," she said proudly. "Not a man of them +can beat me when it comes to building a stack. When I offered to help +Albert looked doubtful. 'I am afraid the work will be too hard for +you,' he said. 'Try me for a day and see,' said I. 'I will do my +darnedest.'" + +None of the Ingleside folks spoke for just a moment. Their silence +meant that they thought Susan's pluck in "working out" quite wonderful. +But Susan mistook their meaning and her sun-burned face grew red. + +"This habit of swearing seems to be growing on me, Mrs. Dr. dear," she +said apologetically. "To think that I should be acquiring it at my age! +It is such a dreadful example to the young girls. I am of the opinion +it comes of reading the newspapers so much. They are so full of +profanity and they do not spell it with stars either, as used to be +done in my young days. This war is demoralizing everybody." + +Susan, standing on a load of grain, her grey hair whipping in the +breeze and her skirt kilted up to her knees for safety and +convenience--no overalls for Susan, if you please--neither a beautiful +nor a romantic figure; but the spirit that animated her gaunt arms was +the self-same one that captured Vimy Ridge and held the German legions +back from Verdun. + +It is not the least likely, however, that this consideration was the +one which appealed most strongly to Mr. Pryor when he drove past one +afternoon and saw Susan pitching sheaves gamely. + +"Smart woman that," he reflected. "Worth two of many a younger one yet. +I might do worse--I might do worse. If Milgrave comes home alive I'll +lose Miranda and hired housekeepers cost more than a wife and are +liable to leave a man in the lurch any time. I'll think it over." + +A week later Mrs. Blythe, coming up from the village late in the +afternoon, paused at the gate of Ingleside in an amazement which +temporarily bereft her of the power of motion. An extraordinary sight +met her eyes. Round the end of the kitchen burst Mr. Pryor, running as +stout, pompous Mr. Pryor had not run in years, with terror imprinted on +every lineament--a terror quite justifiable, for behind him, like an +avenging fate, came Susan, with a huge, smoking iron pot grasped in her +hands, and an expression in her eye that boded ill to the object of her +indignation, if she should overtake him. Pursuer and pursued tore +across the lawn. Mr. Pryor reached the gate a few feet ahead of Susan, +wrenched it open, and fled down the road, without a glance at the +transfixed lady of Ingleside. + +"Susan," gasped Anne. + +Susan halted in her mad career, set down her pot, and shook her fist +after Mr. Pryor, who had not ceased to run, evidently believing that +Susan was still full cry after him. + +"Susan, what does this mean?" demanded Anne, a little severely. + +"You may well ask that, Mrs. Dr. dear," Susan replied wrathfully. "I +have not been so upset in years. That--that--that pacifist has actually +had the audacity to come up here and, in my own kitchen, to ask me to +marry him. HIM!" + +Anne choked back a laugh. + +"But--Susan! Couldn't you have found a--well, a less spectacular method +of refusing him? Think what a gossip this would have made if anyone had +been going past and had seen such a performance." + +"Indeed, Mrs. Dr. dear, you are quite right. I did not think of it +because I was quite past thinking rationally. I was just clean mad. +Come in the house and I will tell you all about it." + +Susan picked up her pot and marched into the kitchen, still trembling +with wrathful excitement. She set her pot on the stove with a vicious +thud. "Wait a moment until I open all the windows to air this kitchen +well, Mrs. Dr. dear. There, that is better. And I must wash my hands, +too, because I shook hands with Whiskers-on-the-moon when he came +in--not that I wanted to, but when he stuck out his fat, oily hand I +did not know just what else to do at the moment. I had just finished my +afternoon cleaning and thanks be, everything was shining and spotless; +and thought I 'now that dye is boiling and I will get my rug rags and +have them nicely out of the way before supper.' + +"Just then a shadow fell over the floor and looking up I saw +Whiskers-on-the-moon, standing in the doorway, dressed up and looking +as if he had just been starched and ironed. I shook hands with him, as +aforesaid, Mrs. Dr. dear, and told him you and the doctor were both +away. But he said, + +"I have come to see you, Miss Baker.' + +"I asked him to sit down, for the sake of my own manners, and then I +stood there right in the middle of the floor and gazed at him as +contemptuously as I could. In spite of his brazen assurance this seemed +to rattle him a little; but he began trying to look sentimental at me +out of his little piggy eyes, and all at once an awful suspicion +flashed into my mind. Something told me, Mrs. Dr. dear, that I was +about to receive my first proposal. I have always thought that I would +like to have just one offer of marriage to reject, so that I might be +able to look other women in the face, but you will not hear me bragging +of this. I consider it an insult and if I could have thought of any way +of preventing it I would. But just then, Mrs. Dr. dear, you will see I +was at a disadvantage, being taken so completely by surprise. Some men, +I am told, consider a little preliminary courting the proper thing +before a proposal, if only to give fair warning of their intentions; +but Whiskers-on-the-moon probably thought it was any port in a storm +for me and that I would jump at him. Well, he is undeceived--yes, he is +undeceived, Mrs. Dr. dear. I wonder if he has stopped running yet." + +"I understand that you don't feel flattered, Susan. But couldn't you +have refused him a little more delicately than by chasing him off the +premises in such a fashion?" + +"Well, maybe I might have, Mrs. Dr. dear, and I intended to, but one +remark he made aggravated me beyond my powers of endurance. If it had +not been for that I would not have chased him with my dye-pot. I will +tell you the whole interview. Whiskers sat down, as I have said, and +right beside him on another chair Doc was lying. The animal was +pretending to be asleep but I knew very well he was not, for he has +been Hyde all day and Hyde never sleeps. By the way, Mrs. Dr. dear, +have you noticed that that cat is far oftener Hyde than Jekyll now? The +more victories Germany wins the Hyder he becomes. I leave you to draw +your own conclusions from that. I suppose Whiskers thought he might +curry favour with me by praising the creature, little dreaming what my +real sentiments towards it were, so he stuck out his pudgy hand and +stroked Mr. Hyde's back. 'What a nice cat,' he said. The nice cat flew +at him and bit him. Then it gave a fearful yowl, and bounded out of the +door. Whiskers looked after it quite amazed. 'That is a queer kind of a +varmint,' he said. I agreed with him on that point, but I was not going +to let him see it. Besides, what business had he to call our cat a +varmint? 'It may be a varmint or it may not,' I said, 'but it knows the +difference between a Canadian and a Hun.' You would have thought, would +you not, Mrs. Dr. dear, that a hint like that would have been enough +for him! But it went no deeper than his skin. I saw him settling back +quite comfortable, as if for a good talk, and thought I, 'If there is +anything coming it may as well come soon and be done with, for with all +these rags to dye before supper I have no time to waste in flirting,' +so I spoke right out. 'If you have anything particular to discuss with +me, Mr. Pryor, I would feel obliged if you would mention it without +loss of time, because I am very busy this afternoon.' He fairly beamed +at me out of that circle of red whisker, and said, 'You are a +business-like woman and I agree with you. There is no use in wasting +time beating around the bush. I came up here today to ask you to marry +me.' So there it was, Mrs. Dr. dear. I had a proposal at last, after +waiting sixty-four years for one. + +"I just glared at that presumptuous creature and I said, 'I would not +marry you if you were the last man on earth, Josiah Pryor. So there you +have my answer and you can take it away forthwith.' You never saw a man +so taken aback as he was, Mrs. Dr. dear. He was so flabbergasted that +he just blurted out the truth. 'Why, I thought you'd be only too glad +to get a chance to be married,' he said. That was when I lost my head, +Mrs. Dr. dear. Do you think I had a good excuse, when a Hun and a +pacifist made such an insulting remark to me? 'Go,' I thundered, and I +just caught up that iron pot. I could see that he thought I had +suddenly gone insane, and I suppose he considered an iron pot full of +boiling dye was a dangerous weapon in the hands of a lunatic. At any +rate he went, and stood not upon the order of his going, as you saw for +yourself. And I do not think we will see him back here proposing to us +again in a hurry. No, I think he has learned that there is at least one +single woman in Glen St. Mary who has no hankering to become Mrs. +Whiskers-on-the-moon." + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +WAITING + +Ingleside, + 1st November 1917 + +"It is November--and the Glen is all grey and brown, except where the +Lombardy poplars stand up here and there like great golden torches in +the sombre landscape, although every other tree has shed its leaves. It +has been very hard to keep our courage alight of late. The Caporetto +disaster is a dreadful thing and not even Susan can extract much +consolation out of the present state of affairs. The rest of us don't +try. Gertrude keeps saying desperately, 'They must not get Venice--they +must not get Venice,' as if by saying it often enough she can prevent +them. But what is to prevent them from getting Venice I cannot see. +Yet, as Susan fails not to point out, there was seemingly nothing to +prevent them from getting to Paris in 1914, yet they did not get it, +and she affirms they shall not get Venice either. Oh, how I hope and +pray they will not--Venice the beautiful Queen of the Adriatic. +Although I've never seen it I feel about it just as Byron did--I've +always loved it--it has always been to me 'a fairy city of the heart.' +Perhaps I caught my love of it from Walter, who worshipped it. It was +always one of his dreams to see Venice. I remember we planned +once--down in Rainbow Valley one evening just before the war broke +out--that some time we would go together to see it and float in a +gondola through its moonlit streets. + +"Every fall since the war began there has been some terrible blow to +our troops--Antwerp in 1914, Serbia in 1915; last fall, Rumania, and +now Italy, the worst of all. I think I would give up in despair if it +were not for what Walter said in his dear last letter--that 'the dead +as well as the living were fighting on our side and such an army cannot +be defeated.' No it cannot. We will win in the end. I will not doubt it +for one moment. To let myself doubt would be to 'break faith.' + +"We have all been campaigning furiously of late for the new Victory +Loan. We Junior Reds canvassed diligently and landed several tough old +customers who had at first flatly refused to invest. I--even I--tackled +Whiskers-on-the-moon. I expected a bad time and a refusal. But to my +amazement he was quite agreeable and promised on the spot to take a +thousand dollar bond. He may be a pacifist, but he knows a good +investment when it is handed out to him. Five and a half per cent is +five and a half per cent, even when a militaristic government pays it. + +"Father, to tease Susan, says it was her speech at the Victory Loan +Campaign meeting that converted Mr. Pryor. I don't think that at all +likely, since Mr. Pryor has been publicly very bitter against Susan +ever since her quite unmistakable rejection of his lover-like advances. +But Susan did make a speech--and the best one made at the meeting, too. +It was the first time she ever did such a thing and she vows it will be +the last. Everybody in the Glen was at the meeting, and quite a number +of speeches were made, but somehow things were a little flat and no +especial enthusiasm could be worked up. Susan was quite dismayed at the +lack of zeal, because she had been burningly anxious that the Island +should go over the top in regard to its quota. She kept whispering +viciously to Gertrude and me that there was 'no ginger' in the +speeches; and when nobody went forward to subscribe to the loan at the +close Susan 'lost her head.' At least, that is how she describes it +herself. She bounded to her feet, her face grim and set under her +bonnet--Susan is the only woman in Glen St. Mary who still wears a +bonnet--and said sarcastically and loudly, 'No doubt it is much cheaper +to talk patriotism than it is to pay for it. And we are asking charity, +of course--we are asking you to lend us your money for nothing! No +doubt the Kaiser will feel quite downcast when he hears of this +meeting!" + +"Susan has an unshaken belief that the Kaiser's spies--presumably +represented by Mr. Pryor--promptly inform him of every happening in our +Glen. + +"Norman Douglas shouted out 'Hear! Hear!' and some boy at the back +said, 'What about Lloyd George?' in a tone Susan didn't like. Lloyd +George is her pet hero, now that Kitchener is gone. + +"'I stand behind Lloyd George every time,' retorted Susan. + +"'I suppose that will hearten him up greatly,' said Warren Mead, with +one of his disagreeable 'haw-haws.' + +"Warren's remark was spark to powder. Susan just 'sailed in' as she +puts it, and 'said her say.' She said it remarkably well, too. There +was no lack of 'ginger' in her speech, anyhow. When Susan is warmed up +she has no mean powers of oratory, and the way she trimmed those men +down was funny and wonderful and effective all at once. She said it was +the likes of her, millions of her, that did stand behind Lloyd George, +and did hearten him up. That was the key-note of her speech. Dear old +Susan! She is a perfect dynamo of patriotism and loyalty and contempt +for slackers of all kinds, and when she let it loose on that audience +in her one grand outburst she electrified it. Susan always vows she is +no suffragette, but she gave womanhood its due that night, and she +literally made those men cringe. When she finished with them they were +ready to eat out of her hand. She wound up by ordering them--yes, +ordering them--to march up to the platform forthwith and subscribe for +Victory Bonds. And after wild applause most of them did it, even Warren +Mead. When the total amount subscribed came out in the Charlottetown +dailies the next day we found that the Glen led every district on the +Island--and certainly Susan has the credit for it. She, herself, after +she came home that night was quite ashamed and evidently feared that +she had been guilty of unbecoming conduct: she confessed to mother that +she had been 'rather unladylike.' + +"We were all--except Susan--out for a trial ride in father's new +automobile tonight. A very good one we had, too, though we did get +ingloriously ditched at the end, owing to a certain grim old dame--to +wit, Miss Elizabeth Carr of the Upper Glen--who wouldn't rein her horse +out to let us pass, honk as we might. Father was quite furious; but in +my heart I believe I sympathized with Miss Elizabeth. If I had been a +spinster lady, driving along behind my own old nag, in maiden +meditation fancy free, I wouldn't have lifted a rein when an +obstreperous car hooted blatantly behind me. I should just have sat up +as dourly as she did and said 'Take the ditch if you are determined to +pass.' + +"We did take the ditch--and got up to our axles in sand--and sat +foolishly there while Miss Elizabeth clucked up her horse and rattled +victoriously away. + +"Jem will have a laugh when I write him this. He knows Miss Elizabeth +of old. + +"But--will--Venice--be--saved?" + + +19th November 1917 + +"It is not saved yet--it is still in great danger. But the Italians +are making a stand at last on the Piave line. To be sure military +critics say they cannot possibly hold it and must retreat to the +Adige. But Susan and Gertrude and I say they must hold it, because +Venice must be saved, so what are the military critics to do? + +"Oh, if I could only believe that they can hold it! + +"Our Canadian troops have won another great victory--they have stormed +the Passchendaele Ridge and held it in the face of all counter attacks. +None of our boys were in the battle--but oh, the casualty list of other +people's boys! Joe Milgrave was in it but came through safe. Miranda +had some bad days until she got word from him. But it is wonderful how +Miranda has bloomed out since her marriage. She isn't the same girl at +all. Even her eyes seem to have darkened and deepened--though I suppose +that is just because they glow with the greater intensity that has come +to her. She makes her father stand round in a perfectly amazing +fashion; she runs up the flag whenever a yard of trench on the western +front is taken; and she comes up regularly to our Junior Red Cross; and +she does--yes, she does--put on funny little 'married woman' airs that +are quite killing. But she is the only war-bride in the Glen and surely +nobody need grudge her the satisfaction she gets out of it. + +"The Russian news is bad, too--Kerensky's government has fallen and +Lenin is dictator of Russia. Somehow, it is very hard to keep up +courage in the dull hopelessness of these grey autumn days of suspense +and boding news. But we are beginning to 'get in a low,' as old +Highland Sandy says, over the approaching election. Conscription is the +real issue at stake and it will be the most exciting election we ever +had. All the women 'who have got de age'--to quote Jo Poirier, and who +have husbands, sons, and brothers at the front, can vote. Oh, if I were +only twenty-one! Gertrude and Susan are both furious because they can't +vote. + +"'It is not fair,' Gertrude says passionately. 'There is Agnes Carr who +can vote because her husband went. She did everything she could to +prevent him from going, and now she is going to vote against the Union +Government. Yet I have no vote, because my man at the front is only my +sweetheart and not my husband!" + +"As for Susan, when she reflects that she cannot vote, while a rank old +pacifist like Mr. Pryor can--and will--her comments are sulphurous. + +"I really feel sorry for the Elliotts and Crawfords and MacAllisters +over-harbour. They have always lined up in clearly divided camps of +Liberal and Conservative, and now they are torn from their moorings--I +know I'm mixing my metaphors dreadfully--and set hopelessly adrift. It +will kill some of those old Grits to vote for Sir Robert Borden's +side--and yet they have to because they believe the time has come when +we must have conscription. And some poor Conservatives who are against +conscription must vote for Laurier, who always has been anathema to +them. Some of them are taking it terribly hard. Others seem to be in +much the same attitude as Mrs. Marshall Elliott has come to be +regarding Church Union. + +"She was up here last night. She doesn't come as often as she used to. +She is growing too old to walk this far--dear old 'Miss Cornelia.' I +hate to think of her growing old--we have always loved her so and she +has always been so good to us Ingleside young fry. + +"She used to be so bitterly opposed to Church Union. But last night, +when father told her it was practically decided, she said in a resigned +tone, 'Well, in a world where everything is being rent and torn what +matters one more rending and tearing? Anyhow, compared with Germans +even Methodists seem attractive to me.' + +"Our Junior R.C. goes on quite smoothly, in spite of the fact that +Irene has come back to it--having fallen out with the Lowbridge +society, I understand. She gave me a sweet little jab last +meeting--about knowing me across the square in Charlottetown 'by my +green velvet hat.' Everybody knows me by that detestable and detested +hat. This will be my fourth season for it. Even mother wanted me to get +a new one this fall; but I said, 'No.' As long as the war lasts so long +do I wear that velvet hat in winter." + + +23rd November 1917 + +"The Piave line still holds--and General Byng has won a splendid +victory at Cambrai. I did run up the flag for that--but Susan only +said 'I shall set a kettle of water on the kitchen range tonight. +I notice little Kitchener always has an attack of croup after any +British victory. I do hope he has no pro-German blood in his veins. +Nobody knows much about his father's people.' + +"Jims has had a few attacks of croup this fall--just the ordinary +croup--not that terrible thing he had last year. But whatever blood +runs in his little veins it is good, healthy blood. He is rosy and +plump and curly and cute; and he says such funny things and asks such +comical questions. He likes very much to sit in a special chair in the +kitchen; but that is Susan's favourite chair, too, and when she wants +it, out Jims must go. The last time she put him out of it he turned +around and asked solemnly, 'When you are dead, Susan, can I sit in that +chair?' Susan thought it quite dreadful, and I think that was when she +began to feel anxiety about his possible ancestry. The other night I +took Jims with me for a walk down to the store. It was the first time +he had ever been out so late at night, and when he saw the stars he +exclaimed, 'Oh, Willa, see the big moon and all the little moons!' And +last Wednesday morning, when he woke up, my little alarm clock had +stopped because I had forgotten to wind it up. Jims bounded out of his +crib and ran across to me, his face quite aghast above his little blue +flannel pyjamas. 'The clock is dead,' he gasped, 'oh Willa, the clock +is dead.' + +"One night he was quite angry with both Susan and me because we would +not give him something he wanted very much. When he said his prayers he +plumped down wrathfully, and when he came to the petition 'Make me a +good boy' he tacked on emphatically, 'and please make Willa and Susan +good, 'cause they're not.' + +"I don't go about quoting Jims's speeches to all I meet. That always +bores me when other people do it! I just enshrine them in this old +hotch-potch of a journal! + +"This very evening as I put Jims to bed he looked up and asked me +gravely, 'Why can't yesterday come back, Willa?' + +"Oh, why can't it, Jims? That beautiful 'yesterday' of dreams and +laughter--when our boys were home--when Walter and I read and rambled +and watched new moons and sunsets together in Rainbow Valley. If it +could just come back! But yesterdays never come back, little Jims--and +the todays are dark with clouds--and we dare not think about the +tomorrows." + + +11th December 1917 + +"Wonderful news came today. The British troops captured Jerusalem +yesterday. We ran up the flag and some of Gertrude's old sparkle +came back to her for a moment. + +"'After all,' she said, 'it is worth while to live in the days which +see the object of the Crusades attained. The ghosts of all the +Crusaders must have crowded the walls of Jerusalem last night, with +Coeur-de-lion at their head.' + +"Susan had cause for satisfaction also. + +"'I am so thankful I can pronounce Jerusalem and Hebron,' she said. +'They give me a real comfortable feeling after Przemysl and +Brest-Litovsk! Well, we have got the Turks on the run, at least, and +Venice is safe and Lord Lansdowne is not to be taken seriously; and I +see no reason why we should be downhearted.' + +"Jerusalem! The 'meteor flag of England!' floats over you--the Crescent +is gone. How Walter would have thrilled over that!" + + +18th December 1917 + +"Yesterday the election came off. In the evening mother and Susan +and Gertrude and I forgathered in the living-room and waited in +breathless suspense, father having gone down to the village. We had +no way of hearing the news, for Carter Flagg's store is not on our +line, and when we tried to get it Central always answered that the +line 'was busy'--as no doubt it was, for everybody for miles around was +trying to get Carter's store for the same reason we were. + +"About ten o'clock Gertrude went to the 'phone and happened to catch +someone from over-harbour talking to Carter Flagg. Gertrude shamelessly +listened in and got for her comforting what eavesdroppers are +proverbially supposed to get--to wit, unpleasant hearing; the Union +Government had 'done nothing' in the West. + +"We looked at each other in dismay. If the Government had failed to +carry the West, it was defeated. + +"'Canada is disgraced in the eyes of the world,' said Gertrude bitterly. + +"'If everybody was like the Mark Crawfords over-harbour this would not +have happened,' groaned Susan. 'They locked their Uncle up in the barn +this morning and would not let him out until he promised to vote Union. +That is what I call effective argument, Mrs. Dr. dear.' + +"Gertrude and I couldn't rest after all that. We walked the floor until +our legs gave out and we had to sit down perforce. Mother knitted away +as steadily as clockwork and pretended to be calm and serene--pretended +so well that we were all deceived and envious until the next day, when +I caught her ravelling out four inches of her sock. She had knit that +far past where the heel should have begun! + +"It was twelve before father came home. He stood in the doorway and +looked at us and we looked at him. We did not dare ask him what the +news was. Then he said that it was Laurier who had 'done nothing' in +the West, and that the Union Government was in with a big majority. +Gertrude clapped her hands. I wanted to laugh and cry, mother's eyes +flashed with their old-time starriness and Susan emitted a queer sound +between a gasp and a whoop. + +"This will not comfort the Kaiser much,' she said. + +"Then we went to bed, but were too excited to sleep. Really, as Susan +said solemnly this morning, 'Mrs. Dr. dear, I think politics are too +strenuous for women.'" + + +31st December 1917 + +"Our fourth War Christmas is over. We are trying to gather up some +courage wherewith to face another year of it. Germany has, for the most +part, been victorious all summer. And now they say she has all her +troops from the Russian front ready for a 'big push' in the spring. +Sometimes it seems to me that we just cannot live through the winter +waiting for that. + +"I had a great batch of letters from overseas this week. Shirley is at +the front now, too, and writes about it all as coolly and +matter-of-factly as he used to write of football at Queen's. Carl wrote +that it had been raining for weeks and that nights in the trenches +always made him think of the night of long ago when he did penance in +the graveyard for running away from Henry Warren's ghost. Carl's +letters are always full of jokes and bits of fun. They had a great +rat-hunt the night before he wrote--spearing rats with their +bayonets--and he got the best bag and won the prize. He has a tame rat +that knows him and sleeps in his pocket at night. Rats don't worry Carl +as they do some people--he was always chummy with all little beasts. He +says he is making a study of the habits of the trench rat and means to +write a treatise on it some day that will make him famous. + +"Ken wrote a short letter. His letters are all rather short now--and he +doesn't often slip in those dear little sudden sentences I love so +much. Sometimes I think he has forgotten all about the night he was +here to say goodbye--and then there will be just a line or a word that +makes me think he remembers and always will remember. For instance +to-day's letter hadn't a thing in it that mightn't have been written to +any girl, except that he signed himself 'Your Kenneth,' instead of +'Yours, Kenneth,' as he usually does. Now, did he leave that 's' off +intentionally or was it only carelessness? I shall lie awake half the +night wondering. He is a captain now. I am glad and proud--and yet +Captain Ford sounds so horribly far away and high up. Ken and Captain +Ford seem like two different persons. I may be practically engaged to +Ken--mother's opinion on that point is my stay and bulwark--but I can't +be to Captain Ford! + +"And Jem is a lieutenant now--won his promotion on the field. He sent +me a snap-shot, taken in his new uniform. He looked thin and +old--old--my boy-brother Jem. I can't forget mother's face when I +showed it to her. 'That--my little Jem--the baby of the old House of +Dreams?' was all she said. + +"There was a letter from Faith, too. She is doing V.A.D. work in +England and writes hopefully and brightly. I think she is almost +happy--she saw Jem on his last leave and she is so near him she could +go to him, if he were wounded. That means so much to her. Oh, if I were +only with her! But my work is here at home. I know Walter wouldn't have +wanted me to leave mother and in everything I try to 'keep faith' with +him, even to the little details of daily life. Walter died for +Canada--I must live for her. That is what he asked me to do." + + +28th January 1918 + +"'I shall anchor my storm-tossed soul to the British +fleet and make a batch of bran biscuits,' said Susan today to Cousin +Sophia, who had come in with some weird tale of a new and +all-conquering submarine, just launched by Germany. But Susan is a +somewhat disgruntled woman at present, owing to the regulations +regarding cookery. Her loyalty to the Union Government is being sorely +tried. It surmounted the first strain gallantly. When the order about +flour came Susan said, quite cheerfully, 'I am an old dog to be +learning new tricks, but I shall learn to make war bread if it will +help defeat the Huns.' + +"But the later suggestions went against Susan's grain. Had it not been +for father's decree I think she would have snapped her fingers at Sir +Robert Borden. + +"'Talk about trying to make bricks without straw, Mrs. Dr. dear! How am +I to make a cake without butter or sugar? It cannot be done--not cake +that is cake. Of course one can make a slab, Mrs. Dr. dear. And we +cannot even camooflash it with a little icing! To think that I should +have lived to see the day when a government at Ottawa should step into +my kitchen and put me on rations!' + +"Susan would give the last drop of her blood for her 'king and +country,' but to surrender her beloved recipes is a very different and +much more serious matter. + +"I had letters from Nan and Di too--or rather notes. They are too busy +to write letters, for exams are looming up. They will graduate in Arts +this spring. I am evidently to be the dunce of the family. But somehow +I never had any hankering for a college course, and even now it doesn't +appeal to me. I'm afraid I'm rather devoid of ambition. There is only +one thing I really want to be--and I don't know if I'll be it or not. +If not--I don't want to be anything. But I shan't write it down. It is +all right to think it; but, as Cousin Sophia would say, it might be +brazen to write it down. + +"I will write it down. I won't be cowed by the conventions and Cousin +Sophia! I want to be Kenneth Ford's wife! There now! + +"I've just looked in the glass, and I hadn't the sign of a blush on my +face. I suppose I'm not a properly constructed damsel at all. + +"I was down to see little Dog Monday today. He has grown quite stiff +and rheumatic but there he sat, waiting for the train. He thumped his +tail and looked pleadingly into my eyes. 'When will Jem come?' he +seemed to say. Oh, Dog Monday, there is no answer to that question; and +there is, as yet, no answer to the other which we are all constantly +asking 'What will happen when Germany strikes again on the western +front--her one great, last blow for victory!" + + +1st March 1918 + +"'What will spring bring?' Gertrude said today. 'I dread it as I +never dreaded spring before. Do you suppose there will ever again +come a time when life will be free from fear? For almost four years +we have lain down with fear and risen up with it. It has been the +unbidden guest at every meal, the unwelcome companion at every +gathering.' + +"'Hindenburg says he will be in Paris on 1st April,' sighed Cousin +Sophia. + +"'Hindenburg!' There is no power in pen and ink to express the contempt +which Susan infused into that name. 'Has he forgotten what day the +first of April is?' + +"'Hindenburg has kept his word hitherto,' said Gertrude, as gloomily as +Cousin Sophia herself could have said it. + +"'Yes, fighting against the Russians and Rumanians,' retorted Susan. +'Wait you till he comes up against the British and French, not to speak +of the Yankees, who are getting there as fast as they can and will no +doubt give a good account of themselves.' + +"'You said just the same thing before Mons, Susan,' I reminded her. + +"'Hindenburg says he will spend a million lives to break the Allied +front,' said Gertrude. 'At such a price he must purchase some successes +and how can we live through them, even if he is baffled in the end. +These past two months when we have been crouching and waiting for the +blow to fall have seemed as long as all the preceding months of the war +put together. I work all day feverishly and waken at three o'clock at +night to wonder if the iron legions have struck at last. It is then I +see Hindenburg in Paris and Germany triumphant. I never see her so at +any other time than that accursed hour.' + +"Susan looked dubious over Gertrude's adjective, but evidently +concluded that the 'a' saved the situation. + +"'I wish it were possible to take some magic draught and go to sleep +for the next three months--and then waken to find Armageddon over,' +said mother, almost impatiently. + +"It is not often that mother slumps into a wish like that--or at least +the verbal expression of it. Mother has changed a great deal since that +terrible day in September when we knew that Walter would not come back; +but she has always been brave and patient. Now it seemed as if even she +had reached the limit of her endurance. + +"Susan went over to mother and touched her shoulder. + +"'Do not you be frightened or downhearted, Mrs. Dr. dear,' she said +gently. 'I felt somewhat that way myself last night, and I rose from my +bed and lighted my lamp and opened my Bible; and what do you think was +the first verse my eyes lighted upon? It was 'And they shall fight +against thee but they shall not prevail against thee, for I am with +thee, saith the Lord of Hosts, to deliver thee.' I am not gifted in the +way of dreaming, as Miss Oliver is, but I knew then and there, Mrs. Dr. +dear, that it was a manifest leading, and that Hindenburg will never +see Paris. So I read no further but went back to my bed and I did not +waken at three o'clock or at any other hour before morning.' + +"I say that verse Susan read over and over again to myself. The Lord of +Hosts is with us--and the spirits of all just men made perfect--and +even the legions and guns that Germany is massing on the western front +must break against such a barrier. This is in certain uplifted moments; +but when other moments come I feel, like Gertrude, that I cannot endure +any longer this awful and ominous hush before the coming storm." + + +23rd March 1918 + +"Armageddon has begun!--'the last great fight of all!' Is it, I +wonder? Yesterday I went down to the post office for the mail. It +was a dull, bitter day. The snow was gone but the grey, lifeless +ground was frozen hard and a biting wind was blowing. The whole Glen +landscape was ugly and hopeless. + +"Then I got the paper with its big black headlines. Germany struck on +the twenty-first. She makes big claims of guns and prisoners taken. +General Haig reports that 'severe fighting continues.' I don't like the +sound of that last expression. + +"We all find we cannot do any work that requires concentration of +thought. So we all knit furiously, because we can do that mechanically. +At least the dreadful waiting is over--the horrible wondering where and +when the blow will fall. It has fallen--but they shall not prevail +against us! + +"Oh, what is happening on the western front tonight as I write this, +sitting here in my room with my journal before me? Jims is asleep in +his crib and the wind is wailing around the window; over my desk hangs +Walter's picture, looking at me with his beautiful deep eyes; the Mona +Lisa he gave me the last Christmas he was home hangs on one side of it, +and on the other a framed copy of "The Piper." It seems to me that I +can hear Walter's voice repeating it--that little poem into which he +put his soul, and which will therefore live for ever, carrying Walter's +name on through the future of our land. Everything about me is calm and +peaceful and 'homey.' Walter seems very near me--if I could just sweep +aside the thin wavering little veil that hangs between, I could see +him--just as he saw the Pied Piper the night before Courcelette. + +"Over there in France tonight--does the line hold?" + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +BLACK SUNDAY + +In March of the year of grace 1918 there was one week into which must +have crowded more of searing human agony than any seven days had ever +held before in the history of the world. And in that week there was one +day when all humanity seemed nailed to the cross; on that day the whole +planet must have been agroan with universal convulsion; everywhere the +hearts of men were failing them for fear. + +It dawned calmly and coldly and greyly at Ingleside. Mrs. Blythe and +Rilla and Miss Oliver made ready for church in a suspense tempered by +hope and confidence. The doctor was away, having been summoned during +the wee sma's to the Marwood household in Upper Glen, where a little +war-bride was fighting gallantly on her own battleground to give life, +not death, to the world. Susan announced that she meant to stay home +that morning--a rare decision for Susan. + +"But I would rather not go to church this morning, Mrs. Dr. dear," she +explained. "If Whiskers-on-the-moon were there and I saw him looking +holy and pleased, as he always looks when he thinks the Huns are +winning, I fear I would lose my patience and my sense of decorum and +hurl a Bible or hymn-book at him, thereby disgracing myself and the +sacred edifice. No, Mrs. Dr. dear, I shall stay home from church till +the tide turns and pray hard here." + +"I think I might as well stay home, too, for all the good church will +do me today," Miss Oliver said to Rilla, as they walked down the +hard-frozen red road to the church. "I can think of nothing but the +question, 'Does the line still hold?'" + +"Next Sunday will be Easter," said Rilla. "Will it herald death or life +to our cause?" + +Mr. Meredith preached that morning from the text, "He that endureth to +the end shall be saved," and hope and confidence rang through his +inspiring sentences. Rilla, looking up at the memorial tablet on the +wall above their pew, "sacred to the memory of Walter Cuthbert Blythe," +felt herself lifted out of her dread and filled anew with courage. +Walter could not have laid down his life for naught. His had been the +gift of prophetic vision and he had foreseen victory. She would cling +to that belief--the line would hold. + +In this renewed mood she walked home from church almost gaily. The +others, too, were hopeful, and all went smiling into Ingleside. There +was no one in the living-room, save Jims, who had fallen asleep on the +sofa, and Doc, who sat "hushed in grim repose" on the hearth-rug, +looking very Hydeish indeed. No one was in the dining-room either--and, +stranger still, no dinner was on the table, which was not even set. +Where was Susan? + +"Can she have taken ill?" exclaimed Mrs. Blythe anxiously. "I thought +it strange that she did not want to go to church this morning." + +The kitchen door opened and Susan appeared on the threshold with such a +ghastly face that Mrs. Blythe cried out in sudden panic. + +"Susan, what is it?" + +"The British line is broken and the German shells are falling on +Paris," said Susan dully. + +The three women stared at each other, stricken. + +"It's not true--it's not," gasped Rilla. + +"The thing would be--ridiculous," said Gertrude Oliver--and then she +laughed horribly. + +"Susan, who told you this--when did the news come?" asked Mrs. Blythe. + +"I got it over the long-distance phone from Charlottetown half an hour +ago," said Susan. "The news came to town late last night. It was Dr. +Holland phoned it out and he said it was only too true. Since then I +have done nothing, Mrs. Dr. dear. I am very sorry dinner is not ready. +It is the first time I have been so remiss. If you will be patient I +will soon have something for you to eat. But I am afraid I let the +potatoes burn." + +"Dinner! Nobody wants any dinner, Susan," said Mrs. Blythe wildly. "Oh, +this thing is unbelievable--it must be a nightmare." + +"Paris is lost--France is lost--the war is lost," gasped Rilla, amid +the utter ruins of hope and confidence and belief. + +"Oh God--Oh God," moaned Gertrude Oliver, walking about the room and +wringing her hands, "Oh--God!" + +Nothing else--no other words--nothing but that age old plea--the old, +old cry of supreme agony and appeal, from the human heart whose every +human staff has failed it. + +"Is God dead?" asked a startled little voice from the doorway of the +living-room. Jims stood there, flushed from sleep, his big brown eyes +filled with dread, "Oh Willa--oh, Willa, is God dead?" + +Miss Oliver stopped walking and exclaiming, and stared at Jims, in +whose eyes tears of fright were beginning to gather. Rilla ran to his +comforting, while Susan bounded up from the chair upon which she had +dropped. + +"No," she said briskly, with a sudden return of her real self. "No, God +isn't dead--nor Lloyd George either. We were forgetting that, Mrs. Dr. +dear. Don't cry, little Kitchener. Bad as things are, they might be +worse. The British line may be broken but the British navy is not. Let +us tie to that. I will take a brace and get up a bite to eat, for +strength we must have." + +They made a pretence of eating Susan's "bite," but it was only a +pretence. Nobody at Ingleside ever forgot that black afternoon. +Gertrude Oliver walked the floor--they all walked the floor; except +Susan, who got out her grey war sock. + +"Mrs. Dr. dear, I must knit on Sunday at last. I have never dreamed of +doing it before for, say what might be said, I have considered it was a +violation of the third commandment. But whether it is or whether it is +not I must knit today or I shall go mad." + +"Knit if you can, Susan," said Mrs. Blythe restlessly. "I would knit if +I could--but I cannot--I cannot." + +"If we could only get fuller information," moaned Rilla. "There might +be something to encourage us--if we knew all." + +"We know that the Germans are shelling Paris," said Miss Oliver +bitterly. "In that case they must have smashed through everywhere and +be at the very gates. No, we have lost--let us face the fact as other +peoples in the past have had to face it. Other nations, with right on +their side, have given their best and bravest--and gone down to defeat +in spite of it. Ours is 'but one more To baffled millions who have gone +before.'" + +"I won't give up like that," cried Rilla, her pale face suddenly +flushing. "I won't despair. We are not conquered--no, if Germany +overruns all France we are not conquered. I am ashamed of myself for +this hour of despair. You won't see me slump again like that, I'm going +to ring up town at once and ask for particulars." + +But town could not be got. The long-distance operator there was +submerged by similar calls from every part of the distracted country. +Rilla finally gave up and slipped away to Rainbow Valley. There she +knelt down on the withered grey grasses in the little nook where she +and Walter had had their last talk together, with her head bowed +against the mossy trunk of a fallen tree. The sun had broken through +the black clouds and drenched the valley with a pale golden splendour. +The bells on the Tree Lovers twinkled elfinly and fitfully in the gusty +March wind. + +"Oh God, give me strength," Rilla whispered. "Just strength--and +courage." Then like a child she clasped her hands together and said, as +simply as Jims could have done, "Please send us better news tomorrow." + +She knelt there a long time, and when she went back to Ingleside she +was calm and resolute. The doctor had arrived home, tired but +triumphant, little Douglas Haig Marwood having made a safe landing on +the shores of time. Gertrude was still pacing restlessly but Mrs. +Blythe and Susan had reacted from the shock, and Susan was already +planning a new line of defence for the channel ports. + +"As long as we can hold them," she declared, "the situation is saved. +Paris has really no military significance." + +"Don't," said Gertrude sharply, as if Susan had run something into her. +She thought the old worn phrase 'no military significance' nothing +short of ghastly mockery under the circumstances, and more terrible to +endure than the voice of despair would have been. + +"I heard up at Marwood's of the line being broken," said the doctor, +"but this story of the Germans shelling Paris seems to be rather +incredible. Even if they broke through they were fifty miles from Paris +at the nearest point and how could they get their artillery close +enough to shell it in so short a time? Depend upon it, girls, that part +of the message can't be true. I'm going to try to try a long-distance +call to town myself." + +The doctor was no more successful than Rilla had been, but his point of +view cheered them all a little, and helped them through the evening. +And at nine o'clock a long-distance message came through at last, that +helped them through the night. + +"The line broke only in one place, before St. Quentin," said the +doctor, as he hung up the receiver, "and the British troops are +retreating in good order. That's not so bad. As for the shells that are +falling on Paris, they are coming from a distance of seventy +miles--from some amazing long-range gun the Germans have invented and +sprung with the opening offensive. That is all the news to date, and +Dr. Holland says it is reliable." + +"It would have been dreadful news yesterday," said Gertrude, "but +compared to what we heard this morning it is almost like good news. But +still," she added, trying to smile, "I am afraid I will not sleep much +tonight." + +"There is one thing to be thankful for at any rate, Miss Oliver, dear," +said Susan, "and that is that Cousin Sophia did not come in today. I +really could not have endured her on top of all the rest." + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +"WOUNDED AND MISSING" + +"Battered but Not Broken" was the headline in Monday's paper, and Susan +repeated it over and over to herself as she went about her work. The +gap caused by the St. Quentin disaster had been patched up in time, but +the Allied line was being pushed relentlessly back from the territory +they had purchased in 1917 with half a million lives. On Wednesday the +headline was "British and French Check Germans"; but still the retreat +went on. Back--and back--and back! Where would it end? Would the line +break again--this time disastrously? + +On Saturday the headline was "Even Berlin Admits Offensive Checked," +and for the first time in that terrible week the Ingleside folk dared +to draw a long breath. + +"Well, we have got one week over--now for the next," said Susan +staunchly. + +"I feel like a prisoner on the rack when they stopped turning it," Miss +Oliver said to Rilla, as they went to church on Easter morning. "But I +am not off the rack. The torture may begin again at any time." + +"I doubted God last Sunday," said Rilla, "but I don't doubt him today. +Evil cannot win. Spirit is on our side and it is bound to outlast +flesh." + +Nevertheless her faith was often tried in the dark spring that +followed. Armageddon was not, as they had hoped, a matter of a few +days. It stretched out into weeks and months. Again and again +Hindenburg struck his savage, sudden blows, with alarming, though +futile success. Again and again the military critics declared the +situation extremely perilous. Again and again Cousin Sophia agreed with +the military critics. + +"If the Allies go back three miles more the war is lost," she wailed. + +"Is the British navy anchored in those three miles?" demanded Susan +scornfully. + +"It is the opinion of a man who knows all about it," said Cousin Sophia +solemnly. + +"There is no such person," retorted Susan. "As for the military +critics, they do not know one blessed thing about it, any more than you +or I. They have been mistaken times out of number. Why do you always +look on the dark side, Sophia Crawford?" + +"Because there ain't any bright side, Susan Baker." + +"Oh, is there not? It is the twentieth of April, and Hindy is not in +Paris yet, although he said he would be there by April first. Is that +not a bright spot at least?" + +"It is my opinion that the Germans will be in Paris before very long +and more than that, Susan Baker, they will be in Canada." + +"Not in this part of it. The Huns shall never set foot in Prince Edward +Island as long as I can handle a pitchfork," declared Susan, looking, +and feeling quite equal to routing the entire German army +single-handed. "No, Sophia Crawford, to tell you the plain truth I am +sick and tired of your gloomy predictions. I do not deny that some +mistakes have been made. The Germans would never have got back +Passchendaele if the Canadians had been left there; and it was bad +business trusting to those Portuguese at the Lys River. But that is no +reason why you or anyone should go about proclaiming the war is lost. I +do not want to quarrel with you, least of all at such a time as this, +but our morale must be kept up, and I am going to speak my mind out +plainly and tell you that if you cannot keep from such croaking your +room is better than your company." + +Cousin Sophia marched home in high dudgeon to digest her affront, and +did not reappear in Susan's kitchen for many weeks. Perhaps it was just +as well, for they were hard weeks, when the Germans continued to +strike, now here, now there, and seemingly vital points fell to them at +every blow. And one day in early May, when wind and sunshine frolicked +in Rainbow Valley and the maple grove was golden-green and the harbour +all blue and dimpled and white-capped, the news came about Jem. + +There had been a trench raid on the Canadian front--a little trench +raid so insignificant that it was never even mentioned in the +dispatches and when it was over Lieutenant James Blythe was reported +"wounded and missing." + +"I think this is even worse than the news of his death would have +been," moaned Rilla through her white lips, that night. + +"No--no--'missing' leaves a little hope, Rilla," urged Gertrude Oliver. + +"Yes--torturing, agonized hope that keeps you from ever becoming quite +resigned to the worst," said Rilla. "Oh, Miss Oliver--must we go for +weeks and months--not knowing whether Jem is alive or dead? Perhaps we +will never know. I--I cannot bear it--I cannot. Walter--and now Jem. +This will kill mother--look at her face, Miss Oliver, and you will see +that. And Faith--poor Faith--how can she bear it?" + +Gertrude shivered with pain. She looked up at the pictures hanging over +Rilla's desk and felt a sudden hatred of Mona Lisa's endless smile. + +"Will not even this blot it off your face?" she thought savagely. + +But she said gently, "No, it won't kill your mother. She's made of +finer mettle than that. Besides, she refuses to believe Jem is dead; +she will cling to hope and we must all do that. Faith, you may be sure, +will do it." + +"I cannot," moaned Rilla, "Jem was wounded--what chance would he have? +Even if the Germans found him--we know how they have treated wounded +prisoners. I wish I could hope, Miss Oliver--it would help, I suppose. +But hope seems dead in me. I can't hope without some reason for it--and +there is no reason." + +When Miss Oliver had gone to her own room and Rilla was lying on her +bed in the moonlight, praying desperately for a little strength, Susan +stepped in like a gaunt shadow and sat down beside her. + +"Rilla, dear, do not you worry. Little Jem is not dead." + +"Oh, how can you believe that, Susan?" + +"Because I know. Listen you to me. When that word came this morning the +first thing I thought of was Dog Monday. And tonight, as soon as I got +the supper dishes washed and the bread set, I went down to the station. +There was Dog Monday, waiting for the train, just as patient as usual. +Now, Rilla, dear, that trench raid was four days ago--last Monday--and +I said to the station-agent, 'Can you tell me if that dog howled or +made any kind of a fuss last Monday night?' He thought it over a bit, +and then he said, 'No, he did not.' 'Are you sure?' I said. 'There's +more depends on it than you think!' 'Dead sure,' he said. 'I was up all +night last Monday night because my mare was sick, and there was never a +sound out of him. I would have heard if there had been, for the stable +door was open all the time and his kennel is right across from it!' Now +Rilla dear, those were the man's very words. And you know how that poor +little dog howled all night after the battle of Courcelette. Yet he did +not love Walter as much as he loved Jem. If he mourned for Walter like +that, do you suppose he would sleep sound in his kennel the night after +Jem had been killed? No, Rilla dear, little Jem is not dead, and that +you may tie to. If he were, Dog Monday would have known, just as he +knew before, and he would not be still waiting for the trains." + +It was absurd--and irrational--and impossible. But Rilla believed it, +for all that; and Mrs. Blythe believed it; and the doctor, though he +smiled faintly in pretended derision, felt an odd confidence replace +his first despair; and foolish and absurd or not, they all plucked up +heart and courage to carry on, just because a faithful little dog at +the Glen station was still watching with unbroken faith for his master +to come home. Common sense might scorn--incredulity might mutter "Mere +superstition"--but in their hearts the folk of Ingleside stood by their +belief that Dog Monday knew. + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE TURNING OF THE TIDE + +Susan was very sorrowful when she saw the beautiful old lawn of +Ingleside ploughed up that spring and planted with potatoes. Yet she +made no protest, even when her beloved peony bed was sacrificed. But +when the Government passed the Daylight Saving law Susan balked. There +was a Higher Power than the Union Government, to which Susan owed +allegiance. + +"Do you think it right to meddle with the arrangements of the +Almighty?" she demanded indignantly of the doctor. The doctor, quite +unmoved, responded that the law must be observed, and the Ingleside +clocks were moved on accordingly. But the doctor had no power over +Susan's little alarm. + +"I bought that with my own money, Mrs. Dr. dear," she said firmly, "and +it shall go on God's time and not Borden's time." + +Susan got up and went to bed by "God's time," and regulated her own +goings and comings by it. She served the meals, under protest, by +Borden's time, and she had to go to church by it, which was the +crowning injury. But she said her prayers by her own clock, and fed the +hens by it; so that there was always a furtive triumph in her eye when +she looked at the doctor. She had got the better of him by so much at +least. + +"Whiskers-on-the-moon is very much delighted with this daylight saving +business," she told him one evening. "Of course he naturally would be, +since I understand that the Germans invented it. I hear he came near +losing his entire wheat-crop lately. Warren Mead's cows broke into the +field one day last week--it was the very day the Germans captured the +Chemang-de-dam, which may have been a coincidence or may not--and were +making fine havoc of it when Mrs. Dick Clow happened to see them from +her attic window. At first she had no intention of letting Mr. Pryor +know. She told me she had just gloated over the sight of those cows +pasturing on his wheat. She felt it served him exactly right. But +presently she reflected that the wheat-crop was a matter of great +importance and that 'save and serve' meant that those cows must be +routed out as much as it meant anything. So she went down and phoned +over to Whiskers about the matter. All the thanks she got was that he +said something queer right out to her. She is not prepared to state +that it was actually swearing for you cannot be sure just what you hear +over the phone; but she has her own opinion, and so have I, but I will +not express it for here comes Mr. Meredith, and Whiskers is one of his +elders, so we must be discreet." + +"Are you looking for the new star?" asked Mr. Meredith, joining Miss +Oliver and Rilla, who were standing among the blossoming potatoes +gazing skyward. + +"Yes--we have found it--see, it is just above the tip of the tallest +old pine." + +"It's wonderful to be looking at something that happened three thousand +years ago, isn't it?" said Rilla. "That is when astronomers think the +collision took place which produced this new star. It makes me feel +horribly insignificant," she added under her breath. + +"Even this event cannot dwarf into what may be the proper perspective +in star systems the fact that the Germans are again only one leap from +Paris," said Gertrude restlessly. + +"I think I would like to have been an astronomer," said Mr. Meredith +dreamily, gazing at the star. + +"There must be a strange pleasure in it," agreed Miss Oliver, "an +unearthly pleasure, in more senses than one. I would like to have a few +astronomers for my friends." + +"Fancy talking the gossip of the hosts of heaven," laughed Rilla. + +"I wonder if astronomers feel a very deep interest in earthly affairs?" +said the doctor. "Perhaps students of the canals of Mars would not be +so keenly sensitive to the significance of a few yards of trenches lost +or won on the western front." + +"I have read somewhere," said Mr. Meredith, "that Ernest Renan wrote +one of his books during the siege of Paris in 1870 and 'enjoyed the +writing of it very much.' I suppose one would call him a philosopher." + +"I have read also," said Miss Oliver, "that shortly before his death he +said that his only regret in dying was that he must die before he had +seen what that 'extremely interesting young man, the German Emperor,' +would do in his life. If Ernest Renan 'walked' today and saw what that +interesting young man had done to his beloved France, not to speak of +the world, I wonder if his mental detachment would be as complete as it +was in 1870." + +"I wonder where Jem is tonight," thought Rilla, in a sudden bitter +inrush of remembrance. + +It was over a month since the news had come about Jem. Nothing had been +discovered concerning him, in spite of all efforts. Two or three +letters had come from him, written before the trench raid, and since +then there had been only unbroken silence. Now the Germans were again +at the Marne, pressing nearer and nearer Paris; now rumours were coming +of another Austrian offensive against the Piave line. Rilla turned away +from the new star, sick at heart. It was one of the moments when hope +and courage failed her utterly--when it seemed impossible to go on even +one more day. If only they knew what had happened to Jem--you can face +anything you know. But a beleaguerment of fear and doubt and suspense +is a hard thing for the morale. Surely, if Jem were alive, some word +would have come through. He must be dead. Only--they would never +know--they could never be quite sure; and Dog Monday would wait for the +train until he died of old age. Monday was only a poor, faithful, +rheumatic little dog, who knew nothing more of his master's fate than +they did. + +Rilla had a "white night" and did not fall asleep until late. When she +wakened Gertrude Oliver was sitting at her window leaning out to meet +the silver mystery of the dawn. Her clever, striking profile, with the +masses of black hair behind it, came out clearly against the pallid +gold of the eastern sky. Rilla remembered Jem's admiration of the curve +of Miss Oliver's brow and chin, and she shuddered. Everything that +reminded her of Jem was beginning to give intolerable pain. Walter's +death had inflicted on her heart a terrible wound. But it had been a +clean wound and had healed slowly, as such wounds do, though the scar +must remain for ever. But the torture of Jem's disappearance was +another thing: there was a poison in it that kept it from healing. The +alternations of hope and despair, the endless watching each day for the +letter that never came--that might never come--the newspaper tales of +ill-usage of prisoners--the bitter wonder as to Jem's wound--all were +increasingly hard to bear. + +Gertrude Oliver turned her head. There was an odd brilliancy in her +eyes. + +"Rilla, I've had another dream." + +"Oh, no--no," cried Rilla, shrinking. Miss Oliver's dreams had always +foretold coming disaster. + +"Rilla, it was a good dream. Listen--I dreamed just as I did four years +ago, that I stood on the veranda steps and looked down the Glen. And it +was still covered by waves that lapped about my feet. But as I looked +the waves began to ebb--and they ebbed as swiftly as, four years ago, +they rolled in--ebbed out and out, to the gulf; and the Glen lay before +me, beautiful and green, with a rainbow spanning Rainbow Valley--a +rainbow of such splendid colour that it dazzled me--and I woke. +Rilla--Rilla Blythe--the tide has turned." + +"I wish I could believe it," sighed Rilla. + + "Sooth was my prophecy of fear + Believe it when it augurs cheer," + +quoted Gertrude, almost gaily. "I tell you I have no doubt." + +Yet, in spite of the great Italian victory at the Piave that came a few +days later, she had doubt many a time in the hard month that followed; +and when in mid-July the Germans crossed the Marne again despair came +sickeningly. It was idle, they all felt, to hope that the miracle of +the Marne would be repeated. But it was: again, as in 1914, the tide +turned at the Marne. The French and the American troops struck their +sudden smashing blow on the exposed flank of the enemy and, with the +almost inconceivable rapidity of a dream, the whole aspect of the war +changed. + +"The Allies have won two tremendous victories," said the doctor on 20th +July. + +"It is the beginning of the end--I feel it--I feel it," said Mrs. +Blythe. + +"Thank God," said Susan, folding her trembling old hands, Then she +added, under her breath, "but it won't bring our boys back." + +Nevertheless she went out and ran up the flag, for the first time since +the fall of Jerusalem. As it caught the breeze and swelled gallantly +out above her, Susan lifted her hand and saluted it, as she had seen +Shirley do. "We've all given something to keep you flying," she said. +"Four hundred thousand of our boys gone overseas--fifty thousand of +them killed. But--you are worth it!" The wind whipped her grey hair +about her face and the gingham apron that shrouded her from head to +foot was cut on lines of economy, not of grace; yet, somehow, just then +Susan made an imposing figure. She was one of the women--courageous, +unquailing, patient, heroic--who had made victory possible. In her, +they all saluted the symbol for which their dearest had fought. +Something of this was in the doctor's mind as he watched her from the +door. + +"Susan," he said, when she turned to come in, "from first to last of +this business you have been a brick!" + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +MRS. MATILDA PITTMAN + +Rilla and Jims were standing on the rear platform of their car when the +train stopped at the little Millward siding. The August evening was so +hot and close that the crowded cars were stifling. Nobody ever knew +just why trains stopped at Millward siding. Nobody was ever known to +get off there or get on. There was only one house nearer to it than +four miles, and it was surrounded by acres of blueberry barrens and +scrub spruce-trees. + +Rilla was on her way into Charlottetown to spend the night with a +friend and the next day in Red Cross shopping; she had taken Jims with +her, partly because she did not want Susan or her mother to be bothered +with his care, partly because of a hungry desire in her heart to have +as much of him as she could before she might have to give him up +forever. James Anderson had written to her not long before this; he was +wounded and in the hospital; he would not be able to go back to the +front and as soon as he was able he would be coming home for Jims. + +Rilla was heavy-hearted over this, and worried also. She loved Jims +dearly and would feel deeply giving him up in any case; but if Jim +Anderson were a different sort of a man, with a proper home for the +child, it would not be so bad. But to give Jims up to a roving, +shiftless, irresponsible father, however kind and good-hearted he might +be--and she knew Jim Anderson was kind and good-hearted enough--was a +bitter prospect to Rilla. It was not even likely Anderson would stay in +the Glen; he had no ties there now; he might even go back to England. +She might never see her dear, sunshiny, carefully brought-up little +Jims again. With such a father what might his fate be? Rilla meant to +beg Jim Anderson to leave him with her, but, from his letter, she had +not much hope that he would. + +"If he would only stay in the Glen, where I could keep an eye on Jims +and have him often with me I wouldn't feel so worried over it," she +reflected. "But I feel sure he won't--and Jims will never have any +chance. And he is such a bright little chap--he has ambition, wherever +he got it--and he isn't lazy. But his father will never have a cent to +give him any education or start in life. Jims, my little war-baby, +whatever is going to become of you?" + +Jims was not in the least concerned over what was to become of him. He +was gleefully watching the antics of a striped chipmunk that was +frisking over the roof of the little siding. As the train pulled out +Jims leaned eagerly forward for a last look at Chippy, pulling his hand +from Rilla's. Rilla was so engrossed in wondering what was to become of +Jims in the future that she forgot to take notice of what was happening +to him in the present. What did happen was that Jims lost his balance, +shot headlong down the steps, hurtled across the little siding +platform, and landed in a clump of bracken fern on the other side. + +Rilla shrieked and lost her head. She sprang down the steps and jumped +off the train. + +Fortunately, the train was still going at a comparatively slow speed; +fortunately also, Rilla retained enough sense to jump the way it was +going; nevertheless, she fell and sprawled helplessly down the +embankment, landing in a ditch full of a rank growth of golden-rod and +fireweed. + +Nobody had seen what had happened and the train whisked briskly away +round a curve in the barrens. Rilla picked herself up, dizzy but +unhurt, scrambled out of the ditch, and flew wildly across the +platform, expecting to find Jims dead or broken in pieces. But Jims, +except for a few bruises, and a big fright, was quite uninjured. He was +so badly scared that he didn't even cry, but Rilla, when she found that +he was safe and sound, burst into tears and sobbed wildly. + +"Nasty old twain," remarked Jims in disgust. "And nasty old God," he +added, with a scowl at the heavens. + +A laugh broke into Rilla's sobbing, producing something very like what +her father would have called hysterics. But she caught herself up +before the hysteria could conquer her. + +"Rilla Blythe, I'm ashamed of you. Pull yourself together immediately. +Jims, you shouldn't have said anything like that." + +"God frew me off the twain," declared Jims defiantly. "Somebody frew +me; you didn't frow me; so it was God." + +"No, it wasn't. You fell because you let go of my hand and bent too far +forward. I told you not to do that. So that it was your own fault." + +Jims looked to see if she meant it; then glanced up at the sky again. + +"Excuse me, then, God," he remarked airily. + +Rilla scanned the sky also; she did not like its appearance; a heavy +thundercloud was appearing in the northwest. What in the world was to +be done? There was no other train that night, since the nine o'clock +special ran only on Saturdays. Would it be possible for them to reach +Hannah Brewster's house, two miles away, before the storm broke? Rilla +thought she could do it alone easily enough, but with Jims it was +another matter. Were his little legs good for it? + +"We've got to try it," said Rilla desperately. "We might stay in the +siding until the thunderstorm is over; but it may keep on raining all +night and anyway it will be pitch dark. If we can get to Hannah's she +will keep us all night." + +Hannah Brewster, when she had been Hannah Crawford, had lived in the +Glen and gone to school with Rilla. They had been good friends then, +though Hannah had been three years the older. She had married very +young and had gone to live in Millward. What with hard work and babies +and a ne'er-do-well husband, her life had not been an easy one, and +Hannah seldom revisited her old home. Rilla had visited her once soon +after her marriage, but had not seen her or even heard of her for +years; she knew, however, that she and Jims would find welcome and +harbourage in any house where rosy-faced, open-hearted, generous Hannah +lived. + +For the first mile they got on very well but the second one was harder. +The road, seldom used, was rough and deep-rutted. Jims grew so tired +that Rilla had to carry him for the last quarter. She reached the +Brewster house, almost exhausted, and dropped Jims on the walk with a +sigh of thankfulness. The sky was black with clouds; the first heavy +drops were beginning to fall; and the rumble of thunder was growing +very loud. Then she made an unpleasant discovery. The blinds were all +down and the doors locked. Evidently the Brewsters were not at home. +Rilla ran to the little barn. It, too, was locked. No other refuge +presented itself. The bare whitewashed little house had not even a +veranda or porch. + +It was almost dark now and her plight seemed desperate. + +"I'm going to get in if I have to break a window," said Rilla +resolutely. "Hannah would want me to do that. She'd never get over it +if she heard I came to her house for refuge in a thunderstorm and +couldn't get in." + +Luckily she did not have to go to the length of actual housebreaking. +The kitchen window went up quite easily. Rilla lifted Jims in and +scrambled through herself, just as the storm broke in good earnest. + +"Oh, see all the little pieces of thunder," cried Jims in delight, as +the hail danced in after them. Rilla shut the window and with some +difficulty found and lighted a lamp. They were in a very snug little +kitchen. Opening off it on one side was a trim, nicely furnished +parlour, and on the other a pantry, which proved to be well stocked. + +"I'm going to make myself at home," said Rilla. "I know that is just +what Hannah would want me to do. I'll get a little snack for Jims and +me, and then if the rain continues and nobody comes home I'll just go +upstairs to the spare room and go to bed. There is nothing like acting +sensibly in an emergency. If I had not been a goose when I saw Jims +fall off the train I'd have rushed back into the car and got some one +to stop it. Then I wouldn't have been in this scrape. Since I am in it +I'll make the best of it. + +"This house," she added, looking around, "is fixed up much nicer than +when I was here before. Of course Hannah and Ted were just beginning +housekeeping then. But somehow I've had the idea that Ted hasn't been +very prosperous. He must have done better than I've been led to +believe, when they can afford furniture like this. I'm awfully glad for +Hannah's sake." + +The thunderstorm passed, but the rain continued to fall heavily. At +eleven o'clock Rilla decided that nobody was coming home. Jims had +fallen asleep on the sofa; she carried him up to the spare room and put +him to bed. Then she undressed, put on a nightgown she found in the +washstand drawer, and scrambled sleepily in between very nice +lavender-scented sheets. She was so tired, after her adventures and +exertions, that not even the oddity of her situation could keep her +awake; she was sound asleep in a few minutes. + +Rilla slept until eight o'clock the next morning and then wakened with +startling suddenness. Somebody was saying in a harsh, gruff voice, +"Here, you two, wake up. I want to know what this means." + +Rilla did wake up, promptly and effectually. She had never in all her +life wakened up so thoroughly before. Standing in the room were three +people, one of them a man, who were absolute strangers to her. The man +was a big fellow with a bushy black beard and an angry scowl. Beside +him was a woman--a tall, thin, angular person, with violently red hair +and an indescribable hat. She looked even crosser and more amazed than +the man, if that were possible. In the background was another woman--a +tiny old lady who must have been at least eighty. She was, in spite of +her tinyness, a very striking-looking personage; she was dressed in +unrelieved black, had snow-white hair, a dead-white face, and snapping, +vivid, coal-black eyes. She looked as amazed as the other two, but +Rilla realized that she didn't look cross. + +Rilla also was realizing that something was wrong--fearfully wrong. +Then the man said, more gruffly than ever, "Come now. Who are you and +what business have you here?" + +Rilla raised herself on one elbow, looking and feeling hopelessly +bewildered and foolish. She heard the old black-and-white lady in the +background chuckle to herself. "She must be real," Rilla thought. "I +can't be dreaming her." Aloud she gasped, + +"Isn't this Theodore Brewster's place?" + +"No," said the big woman, speaking for the first time, "this place +belongs to us. We bought it from the Brewsters last fall. They moved to +Greenvale. Our name is Chapley." + +Poor Rilla fell back on her pillow, quite overcome. + +"I beg your pardon," she said. "I--I--thought the Brewsters lived here. +Mrs. Brewster is a friend of mine. I am Rilla Blythe--Dr. Blythe's +daughter from Glen St. Mary. I--I was going to town with my--my--this +little boy--and he fell off the train--and I jumped off after him--and +nobody knew of it. I knew we couldn't get home last night and a storm +was coming up--so we came here and when we found nobody at +home--we--we--just got in through the window and--and--made ourselves +at home." + +"So it seems," said the woman sarcastically. + +"A likely story," said the man. + +"We weren't born yesterday," added the woman. + +Madam Black-and-White didn't say anything; but when the other two made +their pretty speeches she doubled up in a silent convulsion of mirth, +shaking her head from side to side and beating the air with her hands. + +Rilla, stung by the disagreeable attitude of the Chapleys, regained her +self-possession and lost her temper. She sat up in bed and said in her +haughtiest voice, "I do not know when you were born, or where, but it +must have been somewhere where very peculiar manners were taught. If +you will have the decency to leave my room--er--this room--until I can +get up and dress I shall not transgress upon your hospitality"--Rilla +was killingly sarcastic--"any longer. And I shall pay you amply for the +food we have eaten and the night's lodging I have taken." + +The black-and-white apparition went through the motion of clapping her +hands, but not a sound did she make. Perhaps Mr. Chapley was cowed by +Rilla's tone--or perhaps he was appeased at the prospect of payment; at +all events, he spoke more civilly. + +"Well, that's fair. If you pay up it's all right." + +"She shall do no such thing as pay you," said Madam Black-and-White in +a surprisingly clear, resolute, authoritative tone of voice. "If you +haven't got any shame for yourself, Robert Chapley, you've got a +mother-in-law who can be ashamed for you. No strangers shall be charged +for room and lodging in any house where Mrs. Matilda Pitman lives. +Remember that, though I may have come down in the world, I haven't +quite forgot all decency for all that. I knew you was a skinflint when +Amelia married you, and you've made her as bad as yourself. But Mrs. +Matilda Pitman has been boss for a long time, and Mrs. Matilda Pitman +will remain boss. Here you, Robert Chapley, take yourself out of here +and let that girl get dressed. And you, Amelia, go downstairs and cook +a breakfast for her." + +Never, in all her life, had Rilla seen anything like the abject +meekness with which those two big people obeyed that mite. They went +without word or look of protest. As the door closed behind them Mrs. +Matilda Pitman laughed silently, and rocked from side to side in her +merriment. + +"Ain't it funny?" she said. "I mostly lets them run the length of their +tether, but sometimes I has to pull them up, and then I does it with a +jerk. They don't dast aggravate me, because I've got considerable hard +cash, and they're afraid I won't leave it all to them. Neither I will. +I'll leave 'em some, but some I won't, just to vex 'em. I haven't made +up my mind where I will leave it but I'll have to, soon, for at eighty +a body is living on borrowed time. Now, you can take your time about +dressing, my dear, and I'll go down and keep them mean scallawags in +order. That's a handsome child you have there. Is he your brother?" + +"No, he's a little war-baby I've been taking care of, because his +mother died and his father was overseas," answered Rilla in a subdued +tone. + +"War-baby! Humph! Well, I'd better skin out before he wakes up or he'll +likely start crying. Children don't like me--never did. I can't +recollect any youngster ever coming near me of its own accord. Never +had any of my own. Amelia was my step-daughter. Well, it's saved me a +world of bother. If kids don't like me I don't like them, so that's an +even score. But that certainly is a handsome child." + +Jims chose this moment for waking up. He opened his big brown eyes and +looked at Mrs. Matilda Pitman unblinkingly. Then he sat up, dimpled +deliciously, pointed to her and said solemnly to Rilla, "Pwitty lady, +Willa, pwitty lady." + +Mrs. Matilda Pitman smiled. Even eighty-odd is sometimes vulnerable in +vanity. "I've heard that children and fools tell the truth," she said. +"I was used to compliments when I was young--but they're scarcer when +you get as far along as I am. I haven't had one for years. It tastes +good. I s'pose now, you monkey, you wouldn't give me a kiss." + +Then Jims did a quite surprising thing. He was not a demonstrative +youngster and was chary with kisses even to the Ingleside people. But +without a word he stood up in bed, his plump little body encased only +in his undershirt, ran to the footboard, flung his arms about Mrs. +Matilda Pitman's neck, and gave her a bear hug, accompanied by three or +four hearty, ungrudging smacks. + +"Jims," protested Rilla, aghast at this liberty. + +"You leave him be," ordered Mrs. Matilda Pitman, setting her bonnet +straight. + +"Laws I like to see some one that isn't skeered of me. Everybody +is--you are, though you're trying to hide it. And why? Of course Robert +and Amelia are because I make 'em skeered on purpose. But folks always +are--no matter how civil I be to them. Are you going to keep this +child?" + +"I'm afraid not. His father is coming home before long." + +"Is he any good--the father, I mean?" + +"Well--he's kind and nice--but he's poor--and I'm afraid he always will +be," faltered Rilla. + +"I see--shiftless--can't make or keep. Well, I'll see--I'll see. I have +an idea. It's a good idea, and besides it will make Robert and Amelia +squirm. That's its main merit in my eyes, though I like that child, +mind you, because he ain't skeered of me. He's worth some bother. Now, +you get dressed, as I said before, and come down when you're good and +ready." + +Rilla was stiff and sore after her tumble and walk of the night before +but she was not long in dressing herself and Jims. When she went down +to the kitchen she found a smoking hot breakfast on the table. Mr. +Chapley was nowhere in sight and Mrs. Chapley was cutting bread with a +sulky air. Mrs. Matilda Pitman was sitting in an armchair, knitting a +grey army sock. She still wore her bonnet and her triumphant expression. + +"Set right in, dears, and make a good breakfast," she said. + +"I am not hungry," said Rilla almost pleadingly. "I don't think I can +eat anything. And it is time I was starting for the station. The +morning train will soon be along. Please excuse me and let us go--I'll +take a piece of bread and butter for Jims." + +Mrs. Matilda Pitman shook a knitting-needle playfully at Rilla. + +"Sit down and take your breakfast," she said. "Mrs. Matilda Pitman +commands you. Everybody obeys Mrs. Matilda Pitman--even Robert and +Amelia. You must obey her too." + +Rilla did obey her. She sat down and, such was the influence of Mrs. +Matilda Pitman's mesmeric eye, she ate a tolerable breakfast. The +obedient Amelia never spoke; Mrs. Matilda Pitman did not speak either; +but she knitted furiously and chuckled. When Rilla had finished, Mrs. +Matilda Pitman rolled up her sock. + +"Now you can go if you want to," she said, "but you don't have to go. +You can stay here as long as you want to and I'll make Amelia cook your +meals for you." + +The independent Miss Blythe, whom a certain clique of Junior Red Cross +girls accused of being domineering and "bossy," was thoroughly cowed. + +"Thank you," she said meekly, "but we must really go." + +"Well, then," said Mrs. Matilda Pitman, throwing open the door, "your +conveyance is ready for you. I told Robert he must hitch up and drive +you to the station. I enjoy making Robert do things. It's almost the +only sport I have left. I'm over eighty and most things have lost their +flavour except bossing Robert." + +Robert sat before the door on the front seat of a trim, double-seated, +rubber-tired buggy. He must have heard every word his mother-in-law +said but he gave no sign. + +"I do wish," said Rilla, plucking up what little spirit she had left, +"that you would let me--oh--ah--" then she quailed again before Mrs. +Matilda Pitman's eye--"recompense you for--for--" + +"Mrs. Matilda Pitman said before--and meant it--that she doesn't take +pay for entertaining strangers, nor let other people where she lives do +it, much as their natural meanness would like to do it. You go along to +town and don't forget to call the next time you come this way. Don't be +scared. Not that you are scared of much, I reckon, considering the way +you sassed Robert back this morning. I like your spunk. Most girls +nowadays are such timid, skeery creeturs. When I was a girl I wasn't +afraid of nothing nor nobody. Mind you take good care of that boy. He +ain't any common child. And make Robert drive round all the puddles in +the road. I won't have that new buggy splashed." + +As they drove away Jims threw kisses at Mrs. Matilda Pitman as long as +he could see her, and Mrs. Matilda Pitman waved her sock back at him. +Robert spoke no word, either good or bad, all the way to the station, +but he remembered the puddles. When Rilla got out at the siding she +thanked him courteously. The only response she got was a grunt as +Robert turned his horse and started for home. + +"Well"--Rilla drew a long breath--"I must try to get back into Rilla +Blythe again. I've been somebody else these past few hours--I don't +know just who--some creation of that extraordinary old person's. I +believe she hypnotized me. What an adventure this will be to write the +boys." + +And then she sighed. Bitter remembrance came that there were only +Jerry, Ken, Carl and Shirley to write it to now. Jem--who would have +appreciated Mrs. Matilda Pitman keenly--where was Jem? + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +WORD FROM JEM + +4th August 1918 + +"It is four years tonight since the dance at the lighthouse--four years +of war. It seems like three times four. I was fifteen then. I am +nineteen now. I expected that these past four years would be the most +delightful years of my life and they have been years of war--years of +fear and grief and worry--but I humbly hope, of a little growth in +strength and character as well. + +"Today I was going through the hall and I heard mother saying something +to father about me. I didn't mean to listen--I couldn't help hearing +her as I went along the hall and upstairs--so perhaps that is why I +heard what listeners are said never to hear--something good of myself. +And because it was mother who said it I'm going to write it here in my +journal, for my comforting when days of discouragement come upon me, in +which I feel that I am vain and selfish and weak and that there is no +good thing in me. + +"'Rilla has developed in a wonderful fashion these past four years. She +used to be such an irresponsible young creature. She has changed into a +capable, womanly girl and she is such a comfort to me. Nan and Di have +grown a little away from me--they have been so little at home--but +Rilla has grown closer and closer to me. We are chums. I don't see how +I could have got through these terrible years without her, Gilbert.' + +"There, that is just what mother said--and I feel glad--and sorry--and +proud--and humble! It's beautiful to have my mother think that about +me--but I don't deserve it quite. I'm not as good and strong as all +that. There are heaps of times when I have felt cross and impatient and +woeful and despairing. It is mother and Susan who have been this +family's backbone. But I have helped a little, I believe, and I am so +glad and thankful. + +"The war news has been good right along. The French and Americans are +pushing the Germans back and back and back. Sometimes I am afraid it is +too good to last--after nearly four years of disasters one has a +feeling that this constant success is unbelievable. We don't rejoice +noisily over it. Susan keeps the flag up but we go softly. The price +paid has been too high for jubilation. We are just thankful that it has +not been paid in vain. + +"No word has come from Jem. We hope--because we dare not do anything +else. But there are hours when we all feel--though we never say +so--that such hoping is foolishness. These hours come more and more +frequently as the weeks go by. And we may never know. That is the most +terrible thought of all. I wonder how Faith is bearing it. To judge +from her letters she has never for a moment given up hope, but she must +have had her dark hours of doubt like the rest of us." + + +20th August 1918 + +"The Canadians have been in action again and Mr. Meredith had a +cable today saying that Carl had been slightly wounded and is in +the hospital. It did not say where the wound was, which is unusual, +and we all feel worried. There is news of a fresh victory every +day now." + + +30th August 1918 + +"The Merediths had a letter from Carl today. His wound was "only a +slight one"--but it was in his right eye and the sight is gone for +ever! + +"'One eye is enough to watch bugs with,' Carl writes cheerfully. And we +know it might have been oh so much worse! If it had been both eyes! But +I cried all the afternoon after I saw Carl's letter. Those beautiful, +fearless blue eyes of his! + +"There is one comfort--he will not have to go back to the front. He is +coming home as soon as he is out of the hospital--the first of our boys +to return. When will the others come? + +"And there is one who will never come. At least we will not see him if +he does. But, oh, I think he will be there--when our Canadian soldiers +return there will be a shadow army with them--the army of the fallen. +We will not see them--but they will be there!" + + +1st September 1918 + +"Mother and I went into Charlottetown yesterday to see the moving +picture, "Hearts of the World." I made an awful goose of myself--father +will never stop teasing me about it for the rest of my life. But +it all seemed so horribly real--and I was so intensely interested +that I forgot everything but the scenes I saw enacted before my +eyes. And then, quite near the last came a terribly exciting one. +The heroine was struggling with a horrible German soldier who was +trying to drag her away. I knew she had a knife--I had seen her hide +it, to have it in readiness--and I couldn't understand why she didn't +produce it and finish the brute. I thought she must have forgotten it, +and just at the tensest moment of the scene I lost my head altogether. +I just stood right up on my feet in that crowded house and shrieked at +the top of my voice--'The knife is in your stocking--the knife is in +your stocking!' + +"I created a sensation! + +"The funny part was, that just as I said it, the girl did snatch out +the knife and stab the soldier with it! + +"Everybody in the house laughed. I came to my senses and fell back in +my seat, overcome with mortification. Mother was shaking with laughter. +I could have shaken her. Why hadn't she pulled me down and choked me +before I had made such an idiot of myself. She protests that there +wasn't time. + +"Fortunately the house was dark, and I don't believe there was anybody +there who knew me. And I thought I was becoming sensible and +self-controlled and womanly! It is plain I have some distance to go yet +before I attain that devoutly desired consummation." + + +20th September 1918 + +"In the east Bulgaria has asked for peace, and in the west the +British have smashed the Hindenburg line; and right here in Glen +St. Mary little Bruce Meredith has done something that I think +wonderful--wonderful because of the love behind it. Mrs. Meredith was +here tonight and told us about it--and mother and I cried, and Susan +got up and clattered the things about the stove. + +"Bruce always loved Jem very devotedly, and the child has never +forgotten him in all these years. He has been as faithful in his way as +Dog Monday was in his. We have always told him that Jem would come +back. But it seems that he was in Carter Flagg's store last night and +he heard his Uncle Norman flatly declaring that Jem Blythe would never +come back and that the Ingleside folk might as well give up hoping he +would. Bruce went home and cried himself to sleep. This morning his +mother saw him going out of the yard, with a very sorrowful and +determined look, carrying his pet kitten. She didn't think much more +about it until later on he came in, with the most tragic little face, +and told her, his little body shaking with sobs, that he had drowned +Stripey. + +"'Why did you do that?' Mrs. Meredith exclaimed. + +"'To bring Jem back,' sobbed Bruce. 'I thought if I sacrificed Stripey +God would send Jem back. So I drownded him--and, oh mother, it was +awful hard--but surely God will send Jem back now, 'cause Stripey was +the dearest thing I had. I just told God I would give Him Stripey if He +would send Jem back. And He will, won't He, mother?' + +"Mrs. Meredith didn't know what to say to the poor child. She just +could not tell him that perhaps his sacrifice wouldn't bring Jem +back--that God didn't work that way. She told him that he mustn't +expect it right away--that perhaps it would be quite a long time yet +before Jem came back. + +"But Bruce said, 'It oughtn't to take longer'n a week, mother. Oh, +mother, Stripey was such a nice little cat. He purred so pretty. Don't +you think God ought to like him enough to let us have Jem?" + +"Mr. Meredith is worried about the effect on Bruce's faith in God, and +Mrs. Meredith is worried about the effect on Bruce himself if his hope +isn't fulfilled. And I feel as if I must cry every time I think of it. +It was so splendid--and sad--and beautiful. The dear devoted little +fellow! He worshipped that kitten. And if it all goes for nothing--as +so many sacrifices seem to go for nothing--he will be brokenhearted, +for he isn't old enough to understand that God doesn't answer our +prayers just as we hope--and doesn't make bargains with us when we +yield something we love up to Him." + + +24th September 1918 + +"I have been kneeling at my window in the moonshine for a long +time, just thanking God over and over again. The joy of last night +and today has been so great that it seemed half pain--as if our +hearts weren't big enough to hold it. + +"Last night I was sitting here in my room at eleven o'clock writing a +letter to Shirley. Every one else was in bed, except father, who was +out. I heard the telephone ring and I ran out to the hall to answer it, +before it should waken mother. It was long-distance calling, and when I +answered it said 'This is the telegraph Company's office in +Charlottetown. There is an overseas cable for Dr. Blythe.' + +"I thought of Shirley--my heart stood still--and then I heard him +saying, 'It's from Holland.' + +"The message was, + + 'Just arrived. Escaped from Germany. Quite well. Writing. + James Blythe.' + +"I didn't faint or fall or scream. I didn't feel glad or surprised. I +didn't feel anything. I felt numb, just as I did when I heard Walter +had enlisted. I hung up the receiver and turned round. Mother was +standing in her doorway. She wore her old rose kimono, and her hair was +hanging down her back in a long thick braid, and her eyes were shining. +She looked just like a young girl. + +"'There is word from Jem?' she said. + +"How did she know? I hadn't said a word at the phone except +'Yes--yes--yes.' She says she doesn't know how she knew, but she did +know. She was awake and she heard the ring and she knew that there was +word from Jem. + +"'He's alive--he's well--he's in Holland,' I said. + +"Mother came out into the hall and said, 'I must get your father on the +'phone and tell him. He is in the Upper Glen.' + +"She was very calm and quiet--not a bit like I would have expected her +to be. But then I wasn't either. I went and woke up Gertrude and Susan +and told them. Susan said 'Thank God,' firstly, and secondly she said +'Did I not tell you Dog Monday knew?' and thirdly, 'I'll go down and +make a cup of tea'--and she stalked down in her nightdress to make it. +She did make it--and made mother and Gertrude drink it--but I went back +to my room and shut my door and locked it, and I knelt by my window and +cried--just as Gertrude did when her great news came. + +"I think I know at last exactly what I shall feel like on the +resurrection morning." + + +4th October 1918 + +"Today Jem's letter came. It has been in the house only six hours and +it is almost read to pieces. The post-mistress told everybody in the +Glen it had come, and everybody came up to hear the news. + +"Jem was badly wounded in the thigh--and he was picked up and taken to +prison, so delirious with fever that he didn't know what was happening +to him or where he was. It was weeks before he came to his senses and +was able to write. Then he did write--but it never came. He wasn't +treated at all badly at his camp--only the food was poor. He had +nothing to eat but a little black bread and boiled turnips and now and +then a little soup with black peas in it. And we sat down every one of +those days to three good square luxurious meals! He wrote us as often +as he could but he was afraid we were not getting his letters because +no reply came. As soon as he was strong enough he tried to escape, but +was caught and brought back; a month later he and a comrade made +another attempt and succeeded in reaching Holland. + +"Jem can't come home right away. He isn't quite so well as his cable +said, for his wound has not healed properly and he has to go into a +hospital in England for further treatment. But he says he will be all +right eventually, and we know he is safe and will be back home +sometime, and oh, the difference it makes in everything! + +"I had a letter from Jim Anderson today, too. He has married an English +girl, got his discharge, and is coming right home to Canada with his +bride. I don't know whether to be glad or sorry. It will depend on what +kind of a woman she is. I had a second letter also of a somewhat +mysterious tenor. It is from a Charlottetown lawyer, asking me to go in +to see him at my earliest convenience in regard to a certain matter +connected with the estate of the 'late Mrs. Matilda Pitman.' + +"I read a notice of Mrs. Pitman's death--from heart failure--in the +Enterprise a few weeks ago. I wonder if this summons has anything to do +with Jims." + + +5th October 1918 + +"I went into town this morning and had an interview with Mrs. Pitman's +lawyer--a little thin, wispy man, who spoke of his late client with +such a profound respect that it is evident that he as was much under +her thumb as Robert and Amelia were. He drew up a new will for her a +short time before her death. She was worth thirty thousand dollars, +the bulk of which was left to Amelia Chapley. But she left five +thousand to me in trust for Jims. The interest is to be used as I +see fit for his education, and the principal is to be paid over to +him on his twentieth birthday. Certainly Jims was born lucky. I saved +him from slow extinction at the hands of Mrs. Conover--Mary Vance saved +him from death by diptheritic croup--his star saved him when he fell +off the train. And he tumbled not only into a clump of bracken, but +right into this nice little legacy. + +"Evidently, as Mrs. Matilda Pitman said, and as I have always believed, +he is no common child and he has no common destiny in store for him. + +"At all events he is provided for, and in such a fashion that Jim +Anderson can't squander his inheritance if he wanted to. Now, if the +new English stepmother is only a good sort I shall feel quite easy +about the future of my war-baby. + +"I wonder what Robert and Amelia think of it. I fancy they will nail +down their windows when they leave home after this!" + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +VICTORY! + +"A day 'of chilling winds and gloomy skies,'" Rilla quoted one Sunday +afternoon--the sixth of October to be exact. It was so cold that they +had lighted a fire in the living-room and the merry little flames were +doing their best to counteract the outside dourness. "It's more like +November than October--November is such an ugly month." + +Cousin Sophia was there, having again forgiven Susan, and Mrs. Martin +Clow, who was not visiting on Sunday but had dropped in to borrow +Susan's cure for rheumatism--that being cheaper than getting one from +the doctor. "I'm afeared we're going to have an airly winter," +foreboded Cousin Sophia. "The muskrats are building awful big houses +round the pond, and that's a sign that never fails. Dear me, how that +child has grown!" Cousin Sophia sighed again, as if it were an unhappy +circumstance that a child should grow. "When do you expect his father?" + +"Next week," said Rilla. + +"Well, I hope the stepmother won't abuse the pore child," sighed Cousin +Sophia, "but I have my doubts--I have my doubts. Anyhow, he'll be sure +to feel the difference between his usage here and what he'll get +anywhere else. You've spoiled him so, Rilla, waiting on him hand and +foot the way you've always done." + +Rilla smiled and pressed her cheek to Jims' curls. She knew +sweet-tempered, sunny, little Jims was not spoiled. Nevertheless her +heart was anxious behind her smile. She, too, thought much about the +new Mrs. Anderson and wondered uneasily what she would be like. + +"I can't give Jims up to a woman who won't love him," she thought +rebelliously. + +"I b'lieve it's going to rain," said Cousin Sophia. "We have had an +awful lot of rain this fall already. It's going to make it awful hard +for people to get their roots in. It wasn't so in my young days. We +gin'rally had beautiful Octobers then. But the seasons is altogether +different now from what they used to be." Clear across Cousin Sophia's +doleful voice cut the telephone bell. Gertrude Oliver answered it. +"Yes--what? What? Is it true--is it official? Thank you--thank you." + +Gertrude turned and faced the room dramatically, her dark eyes +flashing, her dark face flushed with feeling. All at once the sun broke +through the thick clouds and poured through the big crimson maple +outside the window. Its reflected glow enveloped her in a weird +immaterial flame. She looked like a priestess performing some mystic, +splendid rite. + +"Germany and Austria are suing for peace," she said. + +Rilla went crazy for a few minutes. She sprang up and danced around the +room, clapping her hands, laughing, crying. + +"Sit down, child," said Mrs. Clow, who never got excited over anything, +and so had missed a tremendous amount of trouble and delight in her +journey through life. + +"Oh," cried Rilla, "I have walked the floor for hours in despair and +anxiety in these past four years. Now let me walk in joy. It was worth +living long dreary years for this minute, and it would be worth living +them again just to look back to it. Susan, let's run up the flag--and +we must phone the news to every one in the Glen." + +"Can we have as much sugar as we want to now?" asked Jims eagerly. + +It was a never-to-be-forgotten afternoon. As the news spread excited +people ran about the village and dashed up to Ingleside. The Merediths +came over and stayed to supper and everybody talked and nobody +listened. Cousin Sophia tried to protest that Germany and Austria were +not to be trusted and it was all part of a plot, but nobody paid the +least attention to her. + +"This Sunday makes up for that one in March," said Susan. + +"I wonder," said Gertrude dreamily, apart to Rilla, "if things won't +seem rather flat and insipid when peace really comes. After being fed +for four years on horrors and fears, terrible reverses, amazing +victories, won't anything less be tame and uninteresting? How +strange--and blessed--and dull it will be not to dread the coming of +the mail every day." + +"We must dread it for a little while yet, I suppose," said Rilla. +"Peace won't come--can't come--for some weeks yet. And in those weeks +dreadful things may happen. My excitement is over. We have won the +victory--but oh, what a price we have paid!" + +"Not too high a price for freedom," said Gertrude softly. "Do you think +it was, Rilla?" + +"No," said Rilla, under her breath. She was seeing a little white cross +on a battlefield of France. "No--not if those of us who live will show +ourselves worthy of it--if we 'keep faith.'" + +"We will keep faith," said Gertrude. She rose suddenly. A silence fell +around the table, and in the silence Gertrude repeated Walter's famous +poem "The Piper." When she finished Mr. Meredith stood up and held up +his glass. "Let us drink," he said, "to the silent army--to the boys +who followed when the Piper summoned. 'For our tomorrow they gave their +today'--theirs is the victory!" + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +MR. HYDE GOES TO HIS OWN PLACE AND SUSAN TAKES A HONEYMOON + +Early in November Jims left Ingleside. Rilla saw him go with many tears +but a heart free from boding. Mrs. Jim Anderson, Number Two, was such a +nice little woman that one was rather inclined to wonder at the luck +which bestowed her on Jim. She was rosy-faced and blue-eyed and +wholesome, with the roundness and trigness of a geranium leaf. Rilla +saw at first glance that she was to be trusted with Jims. + +"I'm fond of children, miss," she said heartily. "I'm used to +them--I've left six little brothers and sisters behind me. Jims is a +dear child and I must say you've done wonders in bringing him up so +healthy and handsome. I'll be as good to him as if he was my own, miss. +And I'll make Jim toe the line all right. He's a good worker--all he +needs is some one to keep him at it, and to take charge of his money. +We've rented a little farm just out of the village, and we're going to +settle down there. Jim wanted to stay in England but I says 'No.' I +hankered to try a new country and I've always thought Canada would suit +me." + +"I'm so glad you are going to live near us. You'll let Jims come here +often, won't you? I love him dearly." + +"No doubt you do, miss, for a lovabler child I never did see. We +understand, Jim and me, what you've done for him, and you won't find us +ungrateful. He can come here whenever you want him and I'll always be +glad of any advice from you about his bringing up. He is more your baby +than anyone else's I should say, and I'll see that you get your fair +share of him, miss." + +So Jims went away--with the soup tureen, though not in it. Then the +news of the Armistice came, and even Glen St. Mary went mad. That night +the village had a bonfire, and burned the Kaiser in effigy. The fishing +village boys turned out and burned all the sandhills off in one grand +glorious conflagration that extended for seven miles. Up at Ingleside +Rilla ran laughing to her room. + +"Now I'm going to do a most unladylike and inexcusable thing," she +said, as she pulled her green velvet hat out of its box. "I'm going to +kick this hat about the room until it is without form and void; and I +shall never as long as I live wear anything of that shade of green +again." + +"You've certainly kept your vow pluckily," laughed Miss Oliver. + +"It wasn't pluck--it was sheer obstinacy--I'm rather ashamed of it," +said Rilla, kicking joyously. "I wanted to show mother. It's mean to +want to show your own mother--most unfilial conduct! But I have shown +her. And I've shown myself a few things! Oh, Miss Oliver, just for one +moment I'm really feeling quite young again--young and frivolous and +silly. Did I ever say November was an ugly month? Why it's the most +beautiful month in the whole year. Listen to the bells ringing in +Rainbow Valley! I never heard them so clearly. They're ringing for +peace--and new happiness--and all the dear, sweet, sane, homey things +that we can have again now, Miss Oliver. Not that I am sane just now--I +don't pretend to be. The whole world is having a little crazy spell +today. Soon we'll sober down--and 'keep faith'--and begin to build up +our new world. But just for today let's be mad and glad." + +Susan came in from the outdoor sunlight looking supremely satisfied. + +"Mr. Hyde is gone," she announced. + +"Gone! Do you mean he is dead, Susan?" + +"No, Mrs. Dr. dear, that beast is not dead. But you will never see him +again. I feel sure of that." + +"Don't be so mysterious, Susan. What has happened to him?" + +"Well, Mrs. Dr. dear, he was sitting out on the back steps this +afternoon. It was just after the news came that the Armistice had been +signed and he was looking his Hydest. I can assure you he was an +awesome looking beast. All at once, Mrs. Dr. dear, Bruce Meredith came +around the corner of the kitchen walking on his stilts. He has been +learning to walk on them lately and came over to show me how well he +could do it. Mr. Hyde just took a look and one bound carried him over +the yard fence. Then he went tearing through the maple grove in great +leaps with his ears laid back. You never saw a creature so terrified, +Mrs. Dr. dear. He has never returned." + +"Oh, he'll come back, Susan, probably chastened in spirit by his +fright." + +"We will see, Mrs. Dr. dear--we will see. Remember, the Armistice has +been signed. And that reminds me that Whiskers-on-the-moon had a +paralytic stroke last night. I am not saying it is a judgment on him, +because I am not in the counsels of the Almighty, but one can have +one's own thoughts about it. Neither Whiskers-on-the-moon or Mr. Hyde +will be much more heard of in Glen St. Mary, Mrs. Dr. dear, and that +you may tie to." + +Mr. Hyde certainly was heard of no more. As it could hardly have been +his fright that kept him away the Ingleside folk decided that some dark +fate of shot or poison had descended on him--except Susan, who believed +and continued to affirm that he had merely "gone to his own place." +Rilla lamented him, for she had been very fond of her stately golden +pussy, and had liked him quite as well in his weird Hyde moods as in +his tame Jekyll ones. + +"And now, Mrs. Dr. dear," said Susan, "since the fall house-cleaning is +over and the garden truck is all safe in cellar, I am going to take a +honeymoon to celebrate the peace." + +"A honeymoon, Susan?" + +"Yes, Mrs. Dr. dear, a honeymoon," repeated Susan firmly. "I shall +never be able to get a husband but I am not going to be cheated out of +everything and a honeymoon I intend to have. I am going to +Charlottetown to visit my married brother and his family. His wife has +been ailing all the fall, but nobody knows whether she is going to die +not. She never did tell anyone what she was going to do until she did +it. That is the main reason why she was never liked in our family. But +to be on the safe side I feel that I should visit her. I have not been +in town for over a day for twenty years and I have a feeling that I +might as well see one of those moving pictures there is so much talk +of, so as not to be wholly out of the swim. But have no fear that I +shall be carried away with them, Mrs. Dr. dear. I shall be away a +fortnight if you can spare me so long." + +"You certainly deserve a good holiday, Susan. Better take a month--that +is the proper length for a honeymoon." + +"No, Mrs. Dr. dear, a fortnight is all I require. Besides, I must be +home for at least three weeks before Christmas to make the proper +preparations. We will have a Christmas that is a Christmas this year, +Mrs. Dr. dear. Do you think there is any chance of our boys being home +for it?" + +"No, I think not, Susan. Both Jem and Shirley write that they don't +expect to be home before spring--it may be even midsummer before +Shirley comes. But Carl Meredith will be home, and Nan and Di, and we +will have a grand celebration once more. We'll set chairs for all, +Susan, as you did our first war Christmas--yes, for all--for my dear +lad whose chair must always be vacant, as well as for the others, +Susan." + +"It is not likely I would forget to set his place, Mrs. Dr. dear," said +Susan, wiping her eyes as she departed to pack up for her "honeymoon." + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +"RILLA-MY-RILLA!" + +Carl Meredith and Miller Douglas came home just before Christmas and +Glen St. Mary met them at the station with a brass band borrowed from +Lowbridge and speeches of home manufacture. Miller was brisk and +beaming in spite of his wooden leg; he had developed into a +broad-shouldered, imposing looking fellow and the D. C. Medal he wore +reconciled Miss Cornelia to the shortcomings of his pedigree to such a +degree that she tacitly recognized his engagement to Mary. + +The latter put on a few airs--especially when Carter Flagg took Miller +into his store as head clerk--but nobody grudged them to her. + +"Of course farming's out of the question for us now," she told Rilla, +"but Miller thinks he'll like storekeeping fine once he gets used to a +quiet life again, and Carter Flagg will be a more agreeable boss than +old Kitty. We're going to be married in the fall and live in the old +Mead house with the bay windows and the mansard roof. I've always +thought that the handsomest house in the Glen, but never did I dream +I'd ever live there. We're only renting it, of course, but if things go +as we expect and Carter Flagg takes Miller into partnership we'll own +it some day. Say, I've got on some in society, haven't I, considering +what I come from? I never aspired to being a storekeeper's wife. But +Miller's real ambitious and he'll have a wife that'll back him up. He +says he never saw a French girl worth looking at twice and that his +heart beat true to me every moment he was away." + +Jerry Meredith and Joe Milgrave came back in January, and all winter +the boys from the Glen and its environs came home by twos and threes. +None of them came back just as they went away, not even those who had +been so fortunate as to escape injury. + +One spring day, when the daffodils were blowing on the Ingleside lawn, +and the banks of the brook in Rainbow Valley were sweet with white and +purple violets, the little, lazy afternoon accommodation train pulled +into the Glen station. It was very seldom that passengers for the Glen +came by that train, so nobody was there to meet it except the new +station agent and a small black-and-yellow dog, who for four and a half +years had met every train that had steamed into Glen St. Mary. +Thousands of trains had Dog Monday met and never had the boy he waited +and watched for returned. Yet still Dog Monday watched on with eyes +that never quite lost hope. Perhaps his dog-heart failed him at times; +he was growing old and rheumatic; when he walked back to his kennel +after each train had gone his gait was very sober now--he never trotted +but went slowly with a drooping head and a depressed tail that had +quite lost its old saucy uplift. + +One passenger stepped off the train--a tall fellow in a faded +lieutenant's uniform, who walked with a barely perceptible limp. He had +a bronzed face and there were some grey hairs in the ruddy curls that +clustered around his forehead. The new station agent looked at him +anxiously. He was used to seeing the khaki-clad figures come off the +train, some met by a tumultuous crowd, others, who had sent no word of +their coming, stepping off quietly like this one. But there was a +certain distinction of bearing and features in this soldier that caught +his attention and made him wonder a little more interestedly who he was. + +A black-and-yellow streak shot past the station agent. Dog Monday +stiff? Dog Monday rheumatic? Dog Monday old? Never believe it. Dog +Monday was a young pup, gone clean mad with rejuvenating joy. + +He flung himself against the tall soldier, with a bark that choked in +his throat from sheer rapture. He flung himself on the ground and +writhed in a frenzy of welcome. He tried to climb the soldier's khaki +legs and slipped down and groveled in an ecstasy that seemed as if it +must tear his little body in pieces. He licked his boots and when the +lieutenant had, with laughter on his lips and tears in his eyes, +succeeded in gathering the little creature up in his arms Dog Monday +laid his head on the khaki shoulder and licked the sunburned neck, +making queer sounds between barks and sobs. + +The station agent had heard the story of Dog Monday. He knew now who +the returned soldier was. Dog Monday's long vigil was ended. Jem Blythe +had come home. + +"We are all very happy--and sad--and thankful," wrote Rilla in her +diary a week later, "though Susan has not yet recovered--never will +recover, I believe--from the shock of having Jem come home the very +night she had, owing to a strenuous day, prepared a 'pick up' supper. I +shall never forget the sight of her, tearing madly about from pantry to +cellar, hunting out stored away goodies. Just as if anybody cared what +was on the table--none of us could eat, anyway. It was meat and drink +just to look at Jem. Mother seemed afraid to take her eyes off him lest +he vanish out of her sight. It is wonderful to have Jem back--and +little Dog Monday. Monday refuses to be separated from Jem for a +moment. He sleeps on the foot of his bed and squats beside him at +meal-times. And on Sunday he went to church with him and insisted on +going right into our pew, where he went to sleep on Jem's feet. In the +middle of the sermon he woke up and seemed to think he must welcome Jem +all over again, for he bounded up with a series of barks and wouldn't +quiet down until Jem took him up in his arms. But nobody seemed to +mind, and Mr. Meredith came and patted his head after the service and +said, "'Faith and affection and loyalty are precious things wherever +they are found. That little dog's love is a treasure, Jem.' + +"One night when Jem and I were talking things over in Rainbow Valley, I +asked him if he had ever felt afraid at the front. + +"Jem laughed. + +"'Afraid! I was afraid scores of times--sick with fear--I who used to +laugh at Walter when he was frightened. Do you know, Walter was never +frightened after he got to the front. Realities never scared him--only +his imagination could do that. His colonel told me that Walter was the +bravest man in the regiment. Rilla, I never realized that Walter was +dead till I came back home. You don't know how I miss him now--you +folks here have got used to it in a sense--but it's all fresh to me. +Walter and I grew up together--we were chums as well as brothers--and +now here, in this old valley we loved when we were children, it has +come home to me that I'm not to see him again.' + +"Jem is going back to college in the fall and so are Jerry and Carl. I +suppose Shirley will, too. He expects to be home in July. Nan and Di +will go on teaching. Faith doesn't expect to be home before September. +I suppose she will teach then too, for she and Jem can't be married +until he gets through his course in medicine. Una Meredith has decided, +I think, to take a course in Household Science at Kingsport--and +Gertrude is to be married to her Major and is frankly happy about +it--'shamelessly happy' she says; but I think her attitude is very +beautiful. They are all talking of their plans and hopes--more soberly +than they used to do long ago, but still with interest, and a +determination to carry on and make good in spite of lost years. + +"'We're in a new world,' Jem says, 'and we've got to make it a better +one than the old. That isn't done yet, though some folks seem to think +it ought to be. The job isn't finished--it isn't really begun. The old +world is destroyed and we must build up the new one. It will be the +task of years. I've seen enough of war to realize that we've got to +make a world where wars can't happen. We've given Prussianism its +mortal wound but it isn't dead yet and it isn't confined to Germany +either. It isn't enough to drive out the old spirit--we've got to bring +in the new.' + +"I'm writing down those words of Jem's in my diary so that I can read +them over occasionally and get courage from them, when moods come when +I find it not so easy to 'keep faith.'" + +Rilla closed her journal with a little sigh. Just then she was not +finding it easy to keep faith. All the rest seemed to have some special +aim or ambition about which to build up their lives--she had none. And +she was very lonely, horribly lonely. Jem had come back--but he was not +the laughing boy-brother who had gone away in 1914 and he belonged to +Faith. Walter would never come back. She had not even Jims left. All at +once her world seemed wide and empty--that is, it had seemed wide and +empty from the moment yesterday when she had read in a Montreal paper a +fortnight-old list of returned soldiers in which was the name of +Captain Kenneth Ford. + +So Ken was home--and he had not even written her that he was coming. He +had been in Canada two weeks and she had not had a line from him. Of +course he had forgotten--if there was ever anything to forget--a +handclasp--a kiss--a look--a promise asked under the influence of a +passing emotion. It was all absurd--she had been a silly, romantic, +inexperienced goose. Well, she would be wiser in the future--very +wise--and very discreet--and very contemptuous of men and their ways. + +"I suppose I'd better go with Una and take up Household Science too," +she thought, as she stood by her window and looked down through a +delicate emerald tangle of young vines on Rainbow Valley, lying in a +wonderful lilac light of sunset. There did not seem anything very +attractive just then about Household Science, but, with a whole new +world waiting to be built, a girl must do something. + +The door bell rang, Rilla turned reluctantly stairwards. She must +answer it--there was no one else in the house; but she hated the idea +of callers just then. She went downstairs slowly, and opened the front +door. + +A man in khaki was standing on the steps--a tall fellow, with dark eyes +and hair, and a narrow white scar running across his brown cheek. Rilla +stared at him foolishly for a moment. Who was it? + +She ought to know him--there was certainly something very familiar +about him--"Rilla-my-Rilla," he said. + +"Ken," gasped Rilla. Of course, it was Ken--but he looked so much +older--he was so much changed--that scar--the lines about his eyes and +lips--her thoughts went whirling helplessly. + +Ken took the uncertain hand she held out, and looked at her. The slim +Rilla of four years ago had rounded out into symmetry. He had left a +school girl, and he found a woman--a woman with wonderful eyes and a +dented lip, and rose-bloom cheek--a woman altogether beautiful and +desirable--the woman of his dreams. + +"Is it Rilla-my-Rilla?" he asked, meaningly. + +Emotion shook Rilla from head to foot. +Joy--happiness--sorrow--fear--every passion that had wrung her heart in +those four long years seemed to surge up in her soul for a moment as +the deeps of being were stirred. She had tried to speak; at first voice +would not come. Then--"Yeth," said Rilla. + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Rilla of Ingleside, by Lucy Maud Montgomery + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RILLA OF INGLESIDE *** + +***** This file should be named 3796.txt or 3796.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/9/3796/ + +Produced by Sheila Perkins. 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