I don't like the dream. There was some sinister significance
in it. That kind of vivid dream always 'comes true' with me."
"I hope it doesn't mean there's a storm coming up from the east to spoil
the party," murmured Rilla.
"Incorrigible fifteen!" said Miss Oliver dryly. "No, Rilla-my-Rilla, I
don't think there is any danger that it foretells anything so awful as
that."
There had been an undercurrent of tension in the Ingleside existence for
several days. Only Rilla, absorbed in her own budding life, was unaware
of it. Dr. Blythe had taken to looking grave and saying little over the
daily paper. Jem and Walter were keenly interested in the news it
brought. Jem sought Walter out in excitement that evening.
"Oh, boy, Germany has declared war on France. This means that England
will fight too, probably--and if she does--well, the Piper of your old
fancy will have come at last."
"It wasn't a fancy," said Walter slowly. "It was a presentiment--a
vision--Jem, I really saw him for a moment that evening long ago.
Suppose England does fight?"
"Why, we'll all have to turn in and help her," cried Jem gaily. "We
couldn't let the 'old grey mother of the northern sea' fight it out
alone, could we? But you can't go--the typhoid has done you out of
that. Sort of a shame, eh?"
Walter did not say whether it was a shame or not. He looked silently
over the Glen to the dimpling blue harbour beyond.
Pages:
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48