had had a strong fancy for Rilla Blythe ever since the night of the Four Winds dance; but it was when he saw her there, with little Jims in her arms, that he loved her and realized it. And all the while, poor Rilla was sitting, disappointed and humiliated, feeling that her last evening with Ken was spoiled and wondering why things always had to go so contrarily outside of books. She felt too absurd to try to talk. Evidently Ken was completely disgusted, too, since he was sitting there in such stony silence.
Hope revived momentarily when Jims went so thoroughly asleep that she thought it would be safe to lay him down on the couch in the living room. But when she came out again Susan was sitting on the veranda, loosening her bonnet strings with the air of one who meant to stay where she was for some time.
“Have you got your baby to sleep?” she asked kindly.
Your baby! Really, Susan might have more tact. “Yes,” said Miss Rilla shortly.
Susan laid her parcels on the reed table, as one determined to do her duty. She was very tired but she must help Rilla out. Here was Kenneth Ford who had come to call on the family and they were all unfortunately out and “the poor child” had had to entertain him alone. But Susan had come to her rescue—Susan would do her part no matter how tired she was.
“Dear me, how you have grown up,” she said, looking at Ken’s six feet of khaki uniform without the least awe. Susan had grown used to khaki now and at sixty-four even a lieutenant’s uniform is just clothes and nothing else. “It is an amazing thing how
