Read Online Rilla of Ingleside by Lucy Maud Montgomery - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lucy Maud Montgomery
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Kenneth since the night of the party. He was here one evening after Jem came back but I happened to be away. I don't think he mentioned me at all--at least nobody told me he did and I was determined I wouldn't ask--but I don't care in the least. All that matters absolutely nothing to me now. The only thing that does matter is that Jem has volunteered for active service and will be going to Valcartier in a few more days--my big, splendid brother Jem. Oh, I'm so proud of him!
"I suppose Kenneth would enlist too if it weren't for his ankle. I think that is quite providential. He is his mother's only son and how dreadful she would feel if he went. Only sons should never think of going!"
Walter came wandering through the valley as Rilla sat there, with his head bent and his hands clasped behind him. When he saw Rilla he turned abruptly away; then as abruptly he turned and came back to her.
"Rilla-my-Rilla, what are you thinking of?"
"Everything is so changed, Walter," said Rilla wistfully. "Even you-- you're changed. A week ago we were all so happy--and--and--now I just can't find myself at all. I'm lost."
Walter sat down on a neighbouring stone and took Rilla's little appealing hand.
"I'm afraid our old world has come to an end, Rilla. We've got to face that fact."
"It's so terrible to think of Jem," pleaded Rilla. "Sometimes I forget for a little while what it really means and feel excited and proud--and then it comes over me again like a cold wind."
"I envy Jem!" said Walter moodily.
"Envy Jem! Oh, Walter you--you don't want to go too."
"No," said Walter, gazing straight before him down the emerald vistas of the valley, "no, I don't want to go. That's just the trouble. Rilla, I'm afraid to go. I'm a coward."
"You're not!" Rilla burst out angrily. "Why, anybody would be afraid to go. You might be--why, you might be killed."
"I wouldn't mind that if it didn't hurt," muttered Walter. "I don't think I'm afraid of death itself--it's of the pain that might come before death--it wouldn't be so bad to die and have it over--but to keep on dying! Rilla, I've always been afraid of pain--you know that. I can't help it--I shudder when I think of the possibility of being mangled or--or blinded. Rilla, I cannot face that thought. To be blind --never to see the beauty of the world again--moonlight on Four Winds-- the stars twinkling through the fir-trees--mist on the gulf. I ought to go--I ought to want to go--but I don't--I hate the thought of it-- I'm ashamed--ashamed."
"But, Walter, you couldn't go anyhow," said Rilla piteously. She was sick with a new terror that Walter would go after all. "You're not strong enough."
"I am. I've felt as fit as ever I did this last month. I'd pass any examination--I know it. Everybody thinks I'm not strong yet--and I'm skulking behind that belief. I--I should have been a girl," Walter concluded in a burst of passionate bitterness.
"Even if you were strong enough, you oughtn't to go," sobbed Rilla. "What would mother do? She's breaking her heart over Jem. It would kill her to see you both go."
"Oh, I'm not going--don't worry. I tell you I'm afraid to go--afraid. I don't mince the matter to myself. It's a relief to own up even to you, Rilla. I wouldn't confess it to anybody else--Nan and Di would despise me. But I hate the whole thing--the horror, the pain, the ugliness. War isn't a khaki uniform or a drill parade--everything I've read in old histories haunts me. I lie awake at night and see things that have happened--see the blood and filth and misery of it all. And a bayonet charge! If I could face the other things I could never face that. It turns me sick to think of it--sicker even to think of giving it than receiving it--to think of thrusting a bayonet through another man." Walter writhed and shuddered. "I think of these things all the time-- and it doesn't seem to me that Jem and Jerry ever think of them. They laugh and talk about 'potting Huns'! But it maddens me to see them in the
"I suppose Kenneth would enlist too if it weren't for his ankle. I think that is quite providential. He is his mother's only son and how dreadful she would feel if he went. Only sons should never think of going!"
Walter came wandering through the valley as Rilla sat there, with his head bent and his hands clasped behind him. When he saw Rilla he turned abruptly away; then as abruptly he turned and came back to her.
"Rilla-my-Rilla, what are you thinking of?"
"Everything is so changed, Walter," said Rilla wistfully. "Even you-- you're changed. A week ago we were all so happy--and--and--now I just can't find myself at all. I'm lost."
Walter sat down on a neighbouring stone and took Rilla's little appealing hand.
"I'm afraid our old world has come to an end, Rilla. We've got to face that fact."
"It's so terrible to think of Jem," pleaded Rilla. "Sometimes I forget for a little while what it really means and feel excited and proud--and then it comes over me again like a cold wind."
"I envy Jem!" said Walter moodily.
"Envy Jem! Oh, Walter you--you don't want to go too."
"No," said Walter, gazing straight before him down the emerald vistas of the valley, "no, I don't want to go. That's just the trouble. Rilla, I'm afraid to go. I'm a coward."
"You're not!" Rilla burst out angrily. "Why, anybody would be afraid to go. You might be--why, you might be killed."
"I wouldn't mind that if it didn't hurt," muttered Walter. "I don't think I'm afraid of death itself--it's of the pain that might come before death--it wouldn't be so bad to die and have it over--but to keep on dying! Rilla, I've always been afraid of pain--you know that. I can't help it--I shudder when I think of the possibility of being mangled or--or blinded. Rilla, I cannot face that thought. To be blind --never to see the beauty of the world again--moonlight on Four Winds-- the stars twinkling through the fir-trees--mist on the gulf. I ought to go--I ought to want to go--but I don't--I hate the thought of it-- I'm ashamed--ashamed."
"But, Walter, you couldn't go anyhow," said Rilla piteously. She was sick with a new terror that Walter would go after all. "You're not strong enough."
"I am. I've felt as fit as ever I did this last month. I'd pass any examination--I know it. Everybody thinks I'm not strong yet--and I'm skulking behind that belief. I--I should have been a girl," Walter concluded in a burst of passionate bitterness.
"Even if you were strong enough, you oughtn't to go," sobbed Rilla. "What would mother do? She's breaking her heart over Jem. It would kill her to see you both go."
"Oh, I'm not going--don't worry. I tell you I'm afraid to go--afraid. I don't mince the matter to myself. It's a relief to own up even to you, Rilla. I wouldn't confess it to anybody else--Nan and Di would despise me. But I hate the whole thing--the horror, the pain, the ugliness. War isn't a khaki uniform or a drill parade--everything I've read in old histories haunts me. I lie awake at night and see things that have happened--see the blood and filth and misery of it all. And a bayonet charge! If I could face the other things I could never face that. It turns me sick to think of it--sicker even to think of giving it than receiving it--to think of thrusting a bayonet through another man." Walter writhed and shuddered. "I think of these things all the time-- and it doesn't seem to me that Jem and Jerry ever think of them. They laugh and talk about 'potting Huns'! But it maddens me to see them in the
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