d. 'For our tomorrow they gave their
today'--theirs is the victory!"

CHAPTER XXXIV

MR. HYDE GOES TO HIS OWN PLACE AND SUSAN TAKES A HONEYMOON

Early in November Jims left Ingleside. Rilla saw him go with many tears
but a heart free from boding. Mrs. Jim Anderson, Number Two, was such a
nice little woman that one was rather inclined to wonder at the luck
which bestowed her on Jim. She was rosy-faced and blue-eyed and
wholesome, with the roundness and trigness of a geranium leaf. Rilla
saw at first glance that she was to be trusted with Jims.

"I'm fond of children, miss," she said heartily. "I'm used to
them--I've left six little brothers and sisters behind me. Jims is a
dear child and I must say you've done wonders in bringing him up so
healthy and handsome. I'll be as good to him as if he was my own, miss.
And I'll make Jim toe the line all right. He's a good worker--all he
needs is some one to keep him at it, and to take charge of his money.
We've rented a little farm just out of the village, and we're going to
settle down there. Jim wanted to stay in England but I says 'No.' I
hankered to try a new country and I've always thought Canada would suit
me."

"I'm so glad you are going to live near us. You'll let Jims come here
often, won't you? I love him dearly."

"No doubt you do, miss, for a lovabler child I never did see. We
understand, Jim and me, what you've done for him, and you won't find us
ungrateful. He can come here whenever you want him and I'll always be
glad of any advice from you about his bringing up. He is more your baby
than anyone else's I should say, and I'll see that you get your fair
share of him, miss."

So Jims went away--with the soup tureen, though not in it. Then the
news of the Armistice came, and even Glen St. Mary went mad. That night
the village had a bonfire, and burned the Kaiser in effigy. The fishing
village boys turned out and burned all the sandhills off in one grand
glorious conflagration that extended for seven miles. Up at Ingleside
Rilla ran laughing to her room.

"Now I'm going to do a most unladylike and inexcusable thing," she
said, as she pulled her green velvet hat out of its box. "I'm going to
kick this hat about the room until it is without form and void; and I
shall never as long as I live wear anything of that shade of green
again."

"You've certainly kept your vow pluckily," laughed Miss Oliver.

"It wasn't pluck--it was sheer obstinacy--I'm rather ash