Rilla of Ingleside

in her slumber, yawned, stretched, and smiled at Gertrude Oliver. The latter had come over from Lowbridge the p

at the window. What wil

e days with Rilla's enthusiasm. She had lived long

e this on a golden-fine morning and wonder what surprise packet the day will hand you. I always day-drea

said Gertrude. "I hope the mail will bring us news t

ut 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 afra

your mother to let y

ght. 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 Oli

the over-harbour boys are coming-t

g. 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 e

o 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

time at your first par

f. 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 w

dle of things I discovered I was dressed in my kimono and bed

t was one of those vivid dreams I sometimes have-they are not the va

as your

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

storm coming up from the east to

No, Rilla-my-Rilla, I don't think there is any da

r own budding life, was unaware of it. Dr. Blythe had taken to looking grave and saying little over the daily pap

that England will fight too, probably-and if she does-w

esentiment-a vision-Jem, I really saw him for a momen

let the 'old grey mother of the northern sea' fight it out alone, could we?

me or not. He looked silently over the

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 elevent

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, mournfu

m her hair and fell out over the sill like a falling star of gold. She caught at it vainly-

night. Listen, Miss Oliver-I can hear those old bells in Rainbow V

the aerial, celestial music Adam and Eve he

Rainbow Valley when we were c

ere considerably; Jerry and Nan went there to pursue uninterruptedly the ceaseless wrangles and arguments on profound subjects that seemed

I go and show myself off to Susan. Sh

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

y long, thin, pale hands, generally folded resignedly on her black calico lap. Everything abo

hair all

is," cried Ril

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, wel

ance again?" as

n, poor creature. She was a Kirke from Lowbridge. You ain't a

ed Rilla. "But I'll put on a

y such a night as this," said Cousin Sophia lugubriously, "and they were upset and drowned-every last one of them. I hope no

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 neith

es to the harbour and carry our sli

o 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 spill

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-

hen she found herself one of the gay

pe, 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

Faith Meredith, of course, and Jerry Meredith with Nan Blythe. Di and Wa

y 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

wn 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, caref

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 h

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

. Gertrude Oliver suddenly shivered.

now why Jem tells such gruesome things at a

y 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.

were part of i

ect things. Well, here we are at the House of Dreams.

h his mother's people over-harbour. We haven't seen a great deal of

at happen

r. He has limped a little ever since but it is getting better all the time and he

ed. He walked home with her from the over-harbour church last prayer-meeting night and the airs she has put on since woul

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

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 buil