Rilla of Ingleside

Then--"Yeth," said Rilla

"Is it Rilla-my-Rilla?" he asked, meaningly

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

"Rilla-my-Rilla," he said

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.

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.'

Faith and affection and loyalty are precious things wherever they are found. That little dog's love is a treasure, Jem.'

Mother seemed afraid to take her eyes off him lest he vanish out of her sight.

Dog Monday's long vigil was ended. Jem Blythe had come home.

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.