"Well, we have got one week over--now for the next," said Susan
staunchly.
"I feel like a prisoner on the rack when they stopped turning it," Miss
Oliver said to Rilla, as they went to church on Easter morning. "But I
am not off the rack. The torture may begin again at any time."
"I doubted God last Sunday," said Rilla, "but I don't doubt him today.
Evil cannot win. Spirit is on our side and it is bound to outlast
flesh."
Nevertheless her faith was often tried in the dark spring that followed.
Armageddon was not, as they had hoped, a matter of a few days. It
stretched out into weeks and months. Again and again Hindenburg struck
his savage, sudden blows, with alarming, though futile success. Again
and again the military critics declared the situation extremely
perilous. Again and again Cousin Sophia agreed with the military
critics.
"If the Allies go back three miles more the war is lost," she wailed.
"Is the British navy anchored in those three miles?" demanded Susan
scornfully.
"It is the opinion of a man who knows all about it," said Cousin Sophia
solemnly.
"There is no such person," retorted Susan. "As for the military critics,
they do not know one blessed thing about it, any more than you or I.
They have been mistaken times out of number. Why do you always look on
the dark side, Sophia Crawford?"
"Because there ain't any bright side, Susan Baker.
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