Rilla of Ingleside by Lucy Maud Montgomery

Glen and Four Winds and Harbour Head and Upper Glen and over-harbour--except Whiskers-on-the-moon--was there to see them off. The Blythe family and the Meredith family were all smiling. Even Susan, as Providence did ordain, wore a smile, though the effect was somewhat more painful than tears would have been. Faith and Nan were very pale and very gallant. Rilla thought she would get on very well if something in her throat didn't choke her, and if her lips didn't take such spells of trembling. Dog Monday was there, too. Jem had tried to say good-bye to him at Ingleside but Monday implored so eloquently that Jem relented and let him go to the station. He kept close to Jem's legs and watched every movement of his beloved master.
    "I can't bear that dog's eyes," said Mrs. Meredith.
    "The beast has more sense than most humans," said Mary Vance. "Well, did we any of us ever think we'd live to see this day? I bawled all night to think of Jem and Jerry going like this. I think they're plumb deranged. Miller got a maggot in his head about going but I soon talked him out of it--likewise his aunt said a few touching things. For once in our lives Kitty Alec and I agree. It's a miracle that isn't likely to happen again. There's Ken, Rilla."
    Rilla knew Kenneth was there. She had been acutely conscious of it from the moment he had sprung from Leo West's buggy. Now he came up to her smiling.
    "Doing the brave-smiling-sister-stunt, I see. What a crowd for the Glen to muster! Well, I'm off home in a few days myself."
    A queer little wind of desolation that even Jem's going had not caused blew over Rilla's spirit.
    "Why? You have another month of vacation."
    "Yes--but I can't hang around Four Winds and enjoy myself when the world's on fire like this. It's me for little old Toronto where I'll find some way of helping in spite of this bally ankle. I'm not looking at Jem and Jerry--makes me too sick with envy. You girls are great--no crying, no grim endurance. The boys'll go off with a good taste in their mouths. I hope Persis and mother will be as game when my turn comes."
    "Oh, Kenneth--the war will be over before your turn cometh."
    There! She had lisped again. Another great moment of life spoiled! Well, it was her fate. And anyhow, nothing mattered. Kenneth was off already-- he was talking to Ethel Reese, who was dressed, at seven in the morning, in the gown she had worn to the dance, and was crying. What on earth had Ethel to cry about? None of the Reeses were in khaki. Rilla wanted to cry, too--but she would not. What was that horrid old Mrs. Drew saying to mother, in that melancholy whine of hers? "I don't know how you can stand this, Mrs. Blythe. I couldn't if it was my pore boy." And mother-- oh, mother could always be depended on! How her grey eyes flashed in her pale face. "It might have been worse, Mrs. Drew. I might have had to urge him to go." Mrs. Drew did not understand but Rilla did. She flung up her head. Her brother did not have to be urged to go.
    Rilla found herself standing alone and listening to disconnected scraps of talk as people walked up and down past her.
    "I told Mark to wait and see if they asked for a second lot of men. If they did I'd let him go--but they won't," said Mrs. Palmer Burr.
    "I think I'll have it made with a crush girdle of velvet," said Bessie Clow.
    "I'm frightened to look at my husband's face for fear I'll see in it that he wants to go too," said a little over-harbour bride.
    "I'm scared stiff," said whimsical Mrs. Jim Howard. "I'm scared Jim will enlist--and I'm scared he won't."
    "The war will be over by Christmas," said Joe Vickers.
    "Let them European nations fight it out between them," said Abner Reese.
    "When he was a boy I gave him many a good trouncing," shouted Norman Douglas, who seemed to be referring to some one high in military circles in Charlottetown. "Yes, sir, I walloped him well, big gun as he is now."
    "The existence of the British Empire is at stake," said the Methodist