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 lau