I have been thinking it all over and I have decided that I
must be as brave and heroic and unselfish as I can possibly be."
Mrs. Blythe did not smile at Rilla's italics. Perhaps she did not feel
like smiling or perhaps she detected a real grain of serious purpose
behind Rilla's romantic pose. So here was Rilla hemming sheets and
organizing a Junior Red Cross in her thoughts as she hemmed; moreover,
she was enjoying it--the organizing that is, not the hemming. It was
interesting and Rilla discovered a certain aptitude in herself for it
that surprised her. Who would be president? Not she. The older girls
would not like that. Irene Howard? No, somehow Irene was not quite as
popular as she deserved to be. Marjorie Drew? No, Marjorie hadn't enough
backbone. She was too prone to agree with the last speaker. Betty Mead--
calm, capable, tactful Betty--the very one! And Una Meredith for
treasurer; and, if they were very insistent, they might make her, Rilla,
secretary. As for the various committees, they must be chosen after the
Juniors were organized, but Rilla knew just who should be put on which.
They would meet around--and there must be no eats--Rilla knew she
would have a pitched battle with Olive Kirk over that--and everything
should be strictly business-like and constitutional. Her minute book
should be covered in white with a Red Cross on the cover--and wouldn't
it be nice to have some kind of uniform which they could all wear at the
concerts they would have to get up to raise money--something simple but
smart?
"You have basted the top hem of that sheet on one side and the bottom
hem on the other," said Di.
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