Rilla of Ingleside

by L. M. Montgomery

  CHAPTER XVI

  REALISM AND ROMANCE

  "Warsaw has fallen," said Dr. Blythe with a resigned air, as he broughtthe mail in one warm August day.

  Gertrude and Mrs. Blythe looked dismally at each other, and Rilla, whowas feeding Jims a Morganized diet from a carefully sterilized spoon,laid the said spoon down on his tray, utterly regardless of germs, andsaid, "Oh, dear me," in as tragic a tone as if the news had come as athunderbolt instead of being a foregone conclusion from the precedingweek's dispatches. They had thought they were quite resigned toWarsaw's fall but now they knew they had, as always, hoped against hope.

  "Now, let us take a brace," said Susan. "It is not the terrible thingwe have been thinking. I read a dispatch three columns long in theMontreal Herald yesterday that proved that Warsaw was not importantfrom a military point of view at all. So let us take the military pointof view, doctor dear."

  "I read that dispatch, too, and it has encouraged me immensely," saidGertrude. "I knew then and I know now that it was a lie from beginningto end. But I am in that state of mind where even a lie is a comfort,providing it is a cheerful lie."

  "In that case, Miss Oliver dear, the German official reports ought tobe all you need," said Susan sarcastically. "I never read them nowbecause they make me so mad I cannot put my thoughts properly on mywork after a dose of them. Even this news about Warsaw has taken theedge off my afternoon's plans. Misfortunes never come singly. I spoiledmy baking of bread today--and now Warsaw has fallen--and here is littleKitchener bent on choking himself to death."

  Jims was evidently trying to swallow his spoon, germs and all. Rillarescued him mechanically and was about to resume the operation offeeding him when a casual remark of her father's sent such a shock andthrill over her that for the second time she dropped that doomed spoon.

  "Kenneth Ford is down at Martin West's over-harbour," the doctor wassaying. "His regiment was on its way to the front but was held up inKingsport for some reason, and Ken got leave of absence to come over tothe Island."

  "I hope he will come up to see us," exclaimed Mrs. Blythe.

  "He only has a day or two off, I believe," said the doctor absently.

  Nobody noticed Rilla's flushed face and trembling hands. Even the mostthoughtful and watchful of parents do not see everything that goes onunder their very noses. Rilla made a third attempt to give thelong-suffering Jims his dinner, but all she could think of was thequestion--Would Ken come to see her before he went away? She had notheard from him for a long while. Had he forgotten her completely? If hedid not come she would know that he had. Perhaps there was even--someother girl back there in Toronto. Of course there was. She was a littlefool to be thinking about him at all. She would not think about him. Ifhe came, well and good. It would only be courteous of him to make afarewell call at Ingleside where he had often been a guest. If he didnot come--well and good, too. It did not matter very much. Nobody wasgoing to fret. That was all settled comfortably--she was quiteindifferent--but meanwhile Jims was being fed with a haste andrecklessness that would have filled the soul of Morgan with horror.Jims himself didn't like it, being a methodical baby, accustomed toswallowing spoonfuls with a decent interval for breath between each. Heprotested, but his protests availed him nothing. Rilla, as far as thecare and feeding of infants was concerned, was utterly demoralized.

  Then the telephone-bell rang. There was nothing unusual about thetelephone ringing. It rang on an average every ten minutes atIngleside. But Rilla dropped Jims' spoon again--on the carpet thistime--and flew to the 'phone as if life depended on her getting therebefore anybody else. Jims, his patience exhausted, lifted up his voiceand wept.

  "Hello, is this Ingleside?"

  "Yes."

  "That you, Rilla?" "Yeth--yeth." Oh, why couldn't Jims stop howling forjust one little minute? Why didn't somebody come in and choke him?

  "Know who's speaking?"

  Oh, didn't she know! Wouldn't she know that voice anywhere--at any time?

  "It's Ken--isn't it?"

  "Sure thing. I'm here for a look-in. Can I come up to Ingleside tonightand see you?"

  "Of courthe."

  Had he used "you" in the singular or plural sense? Presently she wouldwring Jims' neck--oh, what was Ken saying?

  "See here, Rilla, can you arrange that there won't be more than a fewdozen people round? Understand? I can't make my meaning clearer overthis bally rural line. There are a dozen receivers down."

  Did she understand! Yes, she understood.

  "I'll try," she said.

  "I'll be up about eight then. By-by."

  Rilla hung up the 'phone and flew to Jims. But she did not wring thatinjured infant's neck. Instead she snatched him bodily out of hischair, crushed him against her face, kissed him rapturously on hismilky mouth, and danced wildly around the room with him in her arms.After this Jims was relieved to find that she returned to sanity, gavehim the rest of his dinner properly, and tucked him away for hisafternoon nap with the little lullaby he loved best of all. She sewedat Red Cross shirts for the rest of the afternoon and built a crystalcastle of dreams, all a-quiver with rainbows. Ken wanted to see her--tosee her alone. That could be easily managed. Shirley wouldn't botherthem, father and mother were going to the Manse, Miss Oliver neverplayed gooseberry, and Jims always slept the clock round from seven toseven. She would entertain Ken on the veranda--it would bemoonlight--she would wear her white georgette dress and do her hairup--yes, she would--at least in a low knot at the nape of her neck.Mother couldn't object to that, surely. Oh, how wonderful and romanticit would be! Would Ken say anything--he must mean to say something orwhy should he be so particular about seeing her alone? What if itrained--Susan had been complaining about Mr. Hyde that morning! What ifsome officious Junior Red called to discuss Belgians and shirts? Or,worst of all, what if Fred Arnold dropped in? He did occasionally.

  The evening came at last and was all that could be desired in anevening. The doctor and his wife went to the Manse, Shirley and MissOliver went they alone knew where, Susan went to the store forhousehold supplies, and Jims went to Dreamland. Rilla put on hergeorgette gown, knotted up her hair and bound a little double string ofpearls around it. Then she tucked a cluster of pale pink baby roses ather belt. Would Ken ask her for a rose for a keepsake? She knew thatJem had carried to the trenches in Flanders a faded rose that FaithMeredith had kissed and given him the night before he left.

  Rilla looked very sweet when she met Ken in the mingled moonlight andvine shadows of the big veranda. The hand she gave him was cold and shewas so desperately anxious not to lisp that her greeting was prim andprecise. How handsome and tall Kenneth looked in his lieutenant'suniform! It made him seem older, too--so much so that Rilla felt ratherfoolish. Hadn't it been the height of absurdity for her to suppose thatthis splendid young officer had anything special to say to her, littleRilla Blythe of Glen St. Mary? Likely she hadn't understood him afterall--he had only meant that he didn't want a mob of folks around makinga fuss over him and trying to lionize him, as they had probably doneover-harbour. Yes, of course, that was all he meant--and she, littleidiot, had gone and vainly imagined that he didn't want anybody buther. And he would think she had manoeuvred everybody away so that theycould be alone together, and he would laugh to himself at her.

  "This is better luck than I hoped for," said Ken, leaning back in hischair and looking at her with very unconcealed admiration in hiseloquent eyes. "I was sure someone would be hanging about and it wasjust you I wanted to see, Rilla-my-Rilla."

  Rilla's dream castle flashed into the landscape again. This wasunmistakable enough certainly--not much doubt as to his meaning here.

  "There aren't--so many of us--to poke around as there used to be," shesaid softly.

  "No, that's so," said Ken gently. "Jem and Walter and the girlsaway--it makes a big blank, doesn't it? But--" he leaned forward untilhis dark curls almost brushed her hair--"doesn't Fred Arnold try tofill the blank occasionally. I've been told so."

  At this
moment, before Rilla could make any reply, Jims began to cry atthe top of his voice in the room whose open window was just abovethem--Jims, who hardly ever cried in the evening. Moreover, he wascrying, as Rilla knew from experience, with a vim and energy thatbetokened that he had been already whimpering softly unheard for sometime and was thoroughly exasperated. When Jims started in crying likethat he made a thorough job of it. Rilla knew that there was no use tosit still and pretend to ignore him. He wouldn't stop; and conversationof any kind was out of the question when such shrieks and howls werefloating over your head. Besides, she was afraid Kenneth would thinkshe was utterly unfeeling if she sat still and let a baby cry likethat. He was not likely acquainted with Morgan's invaluable volume.

  She got up. "Jims has had a nightmare, I think. He sometimes has oneand he is always badly frightened by it. Excuse me for a moment."

  Rilla flew upstairs, wishing quite frankly that soup tureens had neverbeen invented. But when Jims, at sight of her, lifted his little armsentreatingly and swallowed several sobs, with tears rolling down hischeeks, resentment went out of her heart. After all, the poor darlingwas frightened. She picked him up gently and rocked him soothinglyuntil his sobs ceased and his eyes closed. Then she essayed to lay himdown in his crib. Jims opened his eyes and shrieked a protest. Thisperformance was repeated twice. Rilla grew desperate. She couldn'tleave Ken down there alone any longer--she had been away nearly half anhour already. With a resigned air she marched downstairs, carryingJims, and sat down on the veranda. It was, no doubt, a ridiculous thingto sit and cuddle a contrary war-baby when your best young man wasmaking his farewell call, but there was nothing else to be done.

  Jims was supremely happy. He kicked his little pink-soled feetrapturously out under his white nighty and gave one of his rare laughs.He was beginning to be a very pretty baby; his golden hair curled insilken ringlets all over his little round head and his eyes werebeautiful.

  "He's a decorative kiddy all right, isn't he?" said Ken.

  "His looks are very well," said Rilla, bitterly, as if to imply thatthey were much the best of him. Jims, being an astute infant, sensedtrouble in the atmosphere and realized that it was up to him to clearit away. He turned his face up to Rilla, smiled adorably and said,clearly and beguilingly, "Will--Will."

  It was the very first time he had spoken a word or tried to speak.Rilla was so delighted that she forgot her grudge against him. Sheforgave him with a hug and kiss. Jims, understanding that he wasrestored to favour, cuddled down against her just where a gleam oflight from the lamp in the living-room struck across his hair andturned it into a halo of gold against her breast.

  Kenneth sat very still and silent, looking at Rilla--at the delicate,girlish silhouette of her, her long lashes, her dented lip, heradorable chin. In the dim moonlight, as she sat with her head bent alittle over Jims, the lamplight glinting on her pearls until theyglistened like a slender nimbus, he thought she looked exactly like theMadonna that hung over his mother's desk at home. He carried thatpicture of her in his heart to the horror of the battlefields ofFrance. He had had a strong fancy for Rilla Blythe ever since the nightof the Four Winds dance; but it was when he saw her there, with littleJims in her arms, that he loved her and realized it. And all the while,poor Rilla was sitting, disappointed and humiliated, feeling that herlast evening with Ken was spoiled and wondering why things always hadto go so contrarily outside of books. She felt too absurd to try totalk. Evidently Ken was completely disgusted, too, since he was sittingthere in such stony silence.

  Hope revived momentarily when Jims went so thoroughly asleep that shethought it would be safe to lay him down on the couch in theliving-room. But when she came out again Susan was sitting on theveranda, loosening her bonnet strings with the air of one who meant tostay 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 Rilla shortly.

  Susan laid her parcels on the reed table, as one determined to do herduty. She was very tired but she must help Rilla out. Here was KennethFord who had come to call on the family and they were all unfortunatelyout, and "the poor child" had had to entertain him alone. But Susan hadcome 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 feetof khaki uniform without the least awe. Susan had grown used to khakinow, and at sixty-four even a lieutenant's uniform is just clothes andnothing else. "It is an amazing thing how fast children do grow up.Rilla here, now, is almost fifteen."

  "I'm going on seventeen, Susan," cried Rilla almost passionately. Shewas a whole month past sixteen. It was intolerable of Susan.

  "It seems just the other day that you were all babies," said Susan,ignoring Rilla's protest. "You were really the prettiest baby I eversaw, Ken, though your mother had an awful time trying to cure you ofsucking your thumb. Do you remember the day I spanked you?"

  "No," said Ken.

  "Oh well, I suppose you would be too young--you were only about fourand you were here with your mother and you insisted on teasing Nanuntil she cried. I had tried several ways of stopping you but noneavailed, and I saw that a spanking was the only thing that would serve.So I picked you up and laid you across my knee and lambasted you well.You howled at the top of your voice but you left Nan alone after that."

  Rilla was writhing. Hadn't Susan any realization that she wasaddressing an officer of the Canadian Army? Apparently she had not. Oh,what would Ken think? "I suppose you do not remember the time yourmother spanked you either," continued Susan, who seemed to be bent onreviving tender reminiscences that evening. "I shall never, no never,forget it. She was up here one night with you when you were aboutthree, and you and Walter were playing out in the kitchen yard with akitten. I had a big puncheon of rainwater by the spout which I wasreserving for making soap. And you and Walter began quarrelling overthe kitten. Walter was at one side of the puncheon standing on a chair,holding the kitten, and you were standing on a chair at the other side.You leaned across that puncheon and grabbed the kitten and pulled. Youwere always a great hand for taking what you wanted without too muchceremony. Walter held on tight and the poor kitten yelled but youdragged Walter and the kitten half over and then you both lost yourbalance and tumbled into that puncheon, kitten and all. If I had notbeen on the spot you would both have been drowned. I flew to the rescueand hauled you all three out before much harm was done, and yourmother, who had seen it all from the upstairs window, came down andpicked you up, dripping as you were, and gave you a beautiful spanking.Ah," said Susan with a sigh, "those were happy old days at Ingleside."

  "Must have been," said Ken. His voice sounded queer and stiff. Rillasupposed he was hopelessly enraged. The truth was he dared not trusthis voice lest it betray his frantic desire to laugh.

  "Rilla here, now," said Susan, looking affectionately at that unhappydamsel, "never was much spanked. She was a real well-behaved child forthe most part. But her father did spank her once. She got two bottlesof pills out of his office and dared Alice Clow to see which of themcould swallow all the pills first, and if her father had not happenedin the nick of time those two children would have been corpses bynight. As it was, they were both sick enough shortly after. But thedoctor spanked Rilla then and there and he made such a thorough job ofit that she never meddled with anything in his office afterwards. Wehear a great deal nowadays of something that is called 'moralpersuasion,' but in my opinion a good spanking and no naggingafterwards is a much better thing."

  Rilla wondered viciously whether Susan meant to relate all the familyspankings. But Susan had finished with the subject and branched off toanother cheerful one.

  "I remember little Tod MacAllister over-harbour killed himself thatvery way, eating up a whole box of fruitatives because he thought theywere candy. It was a very sad affair. He was," said Susan earnestly,"the very cutest little corpse I ever laid my eyes on. It was verycareless of his m
other to leave the fruitatives where he could getthem, but she was well-known to be a heedless creature. One day shefound a nest of five eggs as she was going across the fields to churchwith a brand new blue silk dress on. So she put them in the pocket ofher petticoat and when she got to church she forgot all about them andsat down on them and her dress was ruined, not to speak of thepetticoat. Let me see--would not Tod be some relation of yours? Yourgreat grandmother West was a MacAllister. Her brother Amos was aMacDonaldite in religion. I am told he used to take the jerks somethingfearful. But you look more like your great grandfather West than theMacAllisters. He died of a paralytic stroke quite early in life."

  "Did you see anybody at the store?" asked Rilla desperately, in thefaint hope of directing Susan's conversation into more agreeablechannels.

  "Nobody except Mary Vance," said Susan, "and she was stepping round asbrisk as the Irishman's flea."

  What terrible similes Susan used! Would Kenneth think she acquired themfrom the family!

  "To hear Mary talk about Miller Douglas you would think he was the onlyGlen boy who had enlisted," Susan went on. "But of course she alwaysdid brag and she has some good qualities I am willing to admit, thoughI did not think so that time she chased Rilla here through the villagewith a dried codfish till the poor child fell, heels over head, intothe puddle before Carter Flagg's store."

  Rilla went cold all over with wrath and shame. Were there any moredisgraceful scenes in her past that Susan could rake up? As for Ken, hecould have howled over Susan's speeches, but he would not so insult theduenna of his lady, so he sat with a preternaturally solemn face whichseemed to poor Rilla a haughty and offended one.

  "I paid eleven cents for a bottle of ink tonight," complained Susan."Ink is twice as high as it was last year. Perhaps it is becauseWoodrow Wilson has been writing so many notes. It must cost himconsiderable. My cousin Sophia says Woodrow Wilson is not the man sheexpected him to be--but then no man ever was. Being an old maid, I donot know much about men and have never pretended to, but my cousinSophia is very hard on them, although she married two of them, whichyou might think was a fair share. Albert Crawford's chimney blew downin that big gale we had last week, and when Sophia heard the bricksclattering on the roof she thought it was a Zeppelin raid and went intohysterics. And Mrs. Albert Crawford says that of the two things shewould have preferred the Zeppelin raid."

  Rilla sat limply in her chair like one hypnotized. She knew Susan wouldstop talking when she was ready to stop and that no earthly power couldmake her stop any sooner. As a rule, she was very fond of Susan butjust now she hated her with a deadly hatred. It was ten o'clock. Kenwould soon have to go--the others would soon be home--and she had noteven had a chance to explain to Ken that Fred Arnold filled no blank inher life nor ever could. Her rainbow castle lay in ruins round her.

  Kenneth got up at last. He realized that Susan was there to stay aslong as he did, and it was a three mile walk to Martin West'sover-harbour. He wondered if Rilla had put Susan up to this, notwanting to be left alone with him, lest he say something Fred Arnold'ssweetheart did not want to hear. Rilla got up, too, and walked silentlythe length of the veranda with him. They stood there for a moment, Kenon the lower step. The step was half sunk into the earth and mint grewthickly about and over its edge. Often crushed by so many passing feetit gave out its essence freely, and the spicy odour hung round themlike a soundless, invisible benediction. Ken looked up at Rilla, whosehair was shining in the moonlight and whose eyes were pools ofallurement. All at once he felt sure there was nothing in that gossipabout Fred Arnold.

  "Rilla," he said in a sudden, intense whisper, "you are the sweetestthing."

  Rilla flushed and looked at Susan. Ken looked, too, and saw thatSusan's back was turned. He put his arm about Rilla and kissed her. Itwas the first time Rilla had ever been kissed. She thought perhaps sheought to resent it but she didn't. Instead, she glanced timidly intoKenneth's seeking eyes and her glance was a kiss.

  "Rilla-my-Rilla," said Ken, "will you promise that you won't let anyoneelse kiss you until I come back?"

  "Yes," said Rilla, trembling and thrilling.

  Susan was turning round. Ken loosened his hold and stepped to the walk.

  "Good-bye," he said casually. Rilla heard herself saying it just ascasually. She stood and watched him down the walk, out of the gate, anddown the road. When the fir wood hid him from her sight she suddenlysaid "Oh," in a choked way and ran down to the gate, sweet blossomythings catching at her skirts as she ran. Leaning over the gate she sawKenneth walking briskly down the road, over the bars of tree shadowsand moonlight, his tall, erect figure grey in the white radiance. As hereached the turn he stopped and looked back and saw her standing amidthe tall white lilies by the gate. He waved his hand--she wavedhers--he was gone around the turn.

  Rilla stood there for a little while, gazing across the fields of mistand silver. She had heard her mother say that she loved turns inroads--they were so provocative and alluring. Rilla thought she hatedthem. She had seen Jem and Jerry vanish from her around a bend in theroad--then Walter--and now Ken. Brothers and playmate andsweetheart--they were all gone, never, it might be, to return. Yetstill the Piper piped and the dance of death went on.

  When Rilla walked slowly back to the house Susan was still sitting bythe veranda table and Susan was sniffing suspiciously.

  "I have been thinking, Rilla dear, of the old days in the House ofDreams, when Kenneth's mother and father were courting and Jem was alittle baby and you were not born or thought of. It was a very romanticaffair and she and your mother were such chums. To think I should havelived to see her son going to the front. As if she had not had enoughtrouble in her early life without this coming upon her! But we musttake a brace and see it through."

  All Rilla's anger against Susan had evaporated. With Ken's kiss stillburning on her lips, and the wonderful significance of the promise hehad asked thrilling heart and soul, she could not be angry with anyone.She put her slim white hand into Susan's brown, work-hardened one andgave it a squeeze. Susan was a faithful old dear and would lay down herlife for any one of them.

  "You are tired, Rilla dear, and had better go to bed," Susan said,patting her hand. "I noticed you were too tired to talk tonight. I amglad I came home in time to help you out. It is very tiresome trying toentertain young men when you are not accustomed to it."

  Rilla carried Jims upstairs and went to bed, but not before she had satfor a long time at her window reconstructing her rainbow castle, withseveral added domes and turrets.

  "I wonder," she said to herself, "if I am, or am not, engaged toKenneth Ford."