Now it all rushes back, worse than ever. Oh, if we could just know that
Jem is all right! I used to be so furious with Jem when he called me
Spider. And now, if he would just come whistling through the hall and
call out, 'Hello, Spider,' as he used to do, I would think it the
loveliest name in the world."
Rilla put away her diary and went out to the garden. The spring evening
was very lovely. The long, green, seaward-looking glen was filled with
dusk, and beyond it were meadows of sunset. The harbour was radiant,
purple here, azure there, opal elsewhere. The maple grove was beginning
to be misty green. Rilla looked about her with wistful eyes. Who said
that spring was the joy of the year? It was the heart-break of the year.
And the pale-purply mornings and the daffodil stars and the wind in the
old pine were so many separate pangs of the heart-break. Would life ever
be free from dread again?
"It's good to see P.E.I. twilight once more," said Walter, joining her.
"I didn't really remember that the sea was so blue and the roads so red
and the wood nooks so wild and fairy haunted. Yes, the fairies still
abide here. I vow I could find scores of them under the violets in
Rainbow Valley."
Rilla was momentarily happy. This sounded like the Walter of yore. She
hoped he was forgetting certain things that had troubled him.
"And isn't the sky blue over Rainbow Valley?" she said, responding to
his mood.
Pages:
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171