Yes, you'll both keep faith--I'm sure of that--you and Una. And
so--goodnight. We go over the top at dawn."
Rilla read her letter over many times. There was a new light on her pale
young face when she finally stood up, amid the asters Walter had loved,
with the sunshine of autumn around her. For the moment at least, she was
lifted above pain and loneliness.
"I will keep faith, Walter," she said steadily. "I will work--and teach
--and learn--and laugh, yes, I will even laugh--through all my years,
because of you and because of what you gave when you followed the call."
Rilla meant to keep Walter's letter as a a sacred treasure. But, seeing
the look on Una Meredith's face when Una had read it and held it back to
her, she thought of something. Could she do it? Oh, no, she could not
give up Walter's letter--his last letter. Surely it was not selfishness
to keep it. A copy would be such a soulless thing. But Una--Una had so
little--and her eyes were the eyes of a woman stricken to the heart,
who yet must not cry out or ask for sympathy.
"Una, would you like to have this letter--to keep?" she asked slowly.
"Yes--if you can give it to me," Una said dully.
"Then--you may have it," said Rilla hurriedly.
"Thank you," said Una. It was all she said, but there was something in
her voice which repaid Rilla for her bit of sacrifice.
Una took the letter and when Rilla had gone she pressed it against her
lonely lips.
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