up in a pitiful little heap of merciful unconsciousness in his arms. Nor did she waken to her pain for many hours.
THE fierce flame of agony had burned itself out and the grey dust of its ashes was over all the world. Rilla’s younger life recovered physically sooner than her mother. For weeks Mrs. Blythe lay ill from grief and shock. Rilla found it was possible to go on with existence, since existence had still to be reckoned with. There was work to be done, for Susan could not do all. For her mother’s sake she had to put on calmness and endurance as a garment in the day; but night after night she lay in her bed, weeping the bitter rebellious tears of youth until at last tears were all wept out and the little patient ache that was to be in her heart until she died took their place.
She clung to Miss Oliver. who knew what to say and what not to say. So few people did. Kind, well-meaning callers and comforters gave Rilla some terrible moments.
“You'll get over it in time,” Mrs. William Reese said, cheerfully. Mrs. Reese had three stalwart sons, not one of whom had gone to the front.
“It’s such a blessing it was Walter who was taken and not Jem,” said Miss Sarah Clow. “Walter was a
