So
do not go so far afield to borrow trouble, Miss Oliver dear, when there
is plenty of it already camping on our very doorstep."
Walter had gone to Kingsport the first of June. Nan, Di and Faith had
gone also to do Red Cross work in their vacation. In mid-July Walter
came home for a week's leave before going overseas. Rilla had lived
through the days of his absence on the hope of that week, and now that
it had come she drank every minute of it thirstily, hating even the
hours she had to spend in sleep, they seemed such a waste of precious
moments. In spite of its sadness, it was a beautiful week, full of
poignant, unforgettable hours, when she and Walter had long walks and
talks and silences together. He was all her own and she knew that he
found strength and comfort in her sympathy and understanding. It was
very wonderful to know she meant so much to him--the knowledge helped
her through moments that would otherwise have been unendurable, and gave
her power to smile--and even to laugh a little. When Walter had gone
she might indulge in the comfort of tears, but not while he was here.
She would not even let herself cry at night, lest her eyes should betray
her to him in the morning.
On his last evening at home they went together to Rainbow Valley and sat
down on the bank of the brook, under the White Lady, where the gay
revels of olden days had been held in the cloudless years.
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