amed of it,"
said Rilla, kicking joyously. "I wanted to show mother. It's mean to
want to show your own mother--most unfilial conduct! But I have shown
her. And I've shown myself a few things! Oh, Miss Oliver, just for one
moment I'm really feeling quite young again--young and frivolous and
silly. Did I ever say November was an ugly month? Why it's the most
beautiful month in the whole year. Listen to the bells ringing in
Rainbow Valley! I never heard them so clearly. They're ringing for
peace--and new happiness--and all the dear, sweet, sane, homey things
that we can have again now, Miss Oliver. Not that I am sane just now--I
don't pretend to be. The whole world is having a little crazy spell
today. Soon we'll sober down--and 'keep faith'--and begin to build up
our new world. But just for today let's be mad and glad."

Susan came in from the outdoor sunlight looking supremely satisfied.

"Mr. Hyde is gone," she announced.

"Gone! Do you mean he is dead, Susan?"

"No, Mrs. Dr. dear, that beast is not dead. But you will never see him
again. I feel sure of that."

"Don't be so mysterious, Susan. What has happened to him?"

"Well, Mrs. Dr. dear, he was sitting out on the back steps this
afternoon. It was just after the news came that the Armistice had been
signed and he was looking his Hydest. I can assure you he was an
awesome looking beast. All at once, Mrs. Dr. dear, Bruce Meredith came
around the corner of the kitchen walking on his stilts. He has been
learning to walk on them lately and came over to show me how well he
could do it. Mr. Hyde just took a look and one bound carried him over
the yard fence. Then he went tearing through the maple grove in great
leaps with his ears laid back. You never saw a creature so terrified,
Mrs. Dr. dear. He has never returned."

"Oh, he'll come back, Susan, probably chastened in spirit by his
fright."

"We will see, Mrs. Dr. dear--we will see. Remember, the Armistice has
been signed. And that reminds me that Whiskers-on-the-moon had a
paralytic stroke last night. I am not saying it is a judgment on him,
because I am not in the counsels of the Almighty, but one can have
one's own thoughts about it. Neither Whiskers-on-the-moon or Mr. Hyde
will be much more heard of in Glen St. Mary, Mrs. Dr. dear, and that
you may tie to."

Mr. Hyde certainly was heard of no more. As it could hardly have been
his fright that kept him away the Ingleside folk decided that some dark
fate of