ime 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 onc