It was all absurd--she had been a silly, romantic,
inexperienced goose. Well, she would be wiser in the future--very wise
--and very discreet--and very contemptuous of men and their ways.
"I suppose I'd better go with Una and take up Household Science too,"
she thought, as she stood by her window and looked down through a
delicate emerald tangle of young vines on Rainbow Valley, lying in a
wonderful lilac light of sunset. There did not seem anything very
attractive just then about Household Science, but, with a whole new
world waiting to be built, a girl must do something.
The door bell rang, Rilla turned reluctantly stairwards. She must answer
it--there was no one else in the house; but she hated the idea of
callers just then. She went downstairs slowly, and opened the front
door.
A man in khaki was standing on the steps--a tall fellow, with dark eyes
and hair, and a narrow white scar running across his brown cheek. Rilla
stared at him foolishly for a moment. Who was it?
She ought to know him--there was certainly something very familiar
about him--"Rilla-my-Rilla," he said.
"Ken," gasped Rilla. Of course, it was Ken--but he looked so much older
--he was so much changed--that scar--the lines about his eyes and lips
--her thoughts went whirling helplessly.
Ken took the uncertain hand she held out, and looked at her. The slim
Rilla of four years ago had rounded out into symmetry.
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