I'm going in tonight to enlist."
"Oh--Little Jem," cried Mrs. Blythe brokenly. She had not called him
that for many years--not since the day he had rebelled against it. "Oh
--no--no--Little Jem."
"I must, mother. I'm right--am I not, father?" said Jem.
Dr. Blythe had risen. He was very pale, too, and his voice was husky.
But he did not hesitate.
"Yes, Jem, yes--if you feel that way, yes--"
Mrs. Blythe covered her face. Walter stared moodily at his plate. Nan
and Di clasped each others' hands. Shirley tried to look unconcerned.
Susan sat as if paralysed, her piece of pie half-eaten on her plate.
Susan never did finish that piece of pie--a fact which bore eloquent
testimony to the upheaval in her inner woman for Susan considered it a
cardinal offence against civilized society to begin to eat anything and
not finish it. That was wilful waste, hens to the contrary
notwithstanding.
Jem turned to the phone again. "I must ring the manse. Jerry will want
to go, too."
At this Nan had cried out "Oh!" as if a knife had been thrust into her,
and rushed from the room. Di followed her. Rilla turned to Walter for
comfort but Walter was lost to her in some reverie she could not share.
"All right," Jem was saying, as coolly as if he were arranging the
details of a picnic. "I thought you would--yes, tonight--the seven
o'clock--meet me at the station. So long.
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