“‘You will be very tired of that hat before three years, Rilla,’ said mother, with a provoking grin, which, being interpreted, meant that I wouldn’t stick it out.
“‘Tired or not, I will wear it that long,’ I said: and then I marched upstairs and cried to think that I had been sarcastic to mother.
“I hate that hat already. But three years or the duration of the war, I said, and three years or the duration of the war it shall be. I vowed and I shall keep my vow, cost what it will.
“That is one of the ‘catawampus’ things. The other is that I have quarrelled with Irene Howard—or she quarrelled with me—or, no, we both quarrelled.
“The Junior Red Cross met here yesterday. The hour of meeting was half past two but Irene came at half past one, because she got the chance of a drive down from the Upper Glen. Irene hasn't been a bit nice to me since the fuss about the eats; and besides I feel sure she resents not being president. But I have been determined that things should go smoothly, so I have never taken any notice, and when she came yesterday she seemed so nice and sweet again that I hoped she had got over her huffiness and we could be the chums we used to be.
“But as soon as we sat down Irene began to rub me the wrong way. I saw her cast a look at my new knitting bag. All the girls have always said Irene was jealous-minded and I would never believe them before. But now I feel that perhaps she is.
“The first thing she did was to pounce on Jims—Irene pretends to adore babies—pick him out of his cradle and kiss him all over his face. Now, Irene knows perfectly well that I don’t like to have Jims
