ross 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 s