Page:Rilla of Ingleside (1921).djvu/275



HE autumn of 1916 was a bitter season for Ingleside. Mrs. Blythe’s return to health was slow, and sorrow and loneliness were in all hearts. Everyone tried to hide it from the others and “carry on” cheerfully. Rilla laughed a good deal. Nobody at Ingleside was deceived by her laughter; it came from her lips only, never from her heart. But outsiders said some people got over trouble very easily, and Irene Howard remarked that she was surprised to find how shallow Rilla Blythe really was. “Why, after all her pose of being so devoted to Walter, she doesn’t seem to mind his death at all. Nobody has even seen her shed a tear or heard her mention his name. She has evidently quite forgotten him. Poor fellow,—you'd really think his family would feel it more. I spoke of him to Rilla at the last Junior Red meeting—of how fine and brave and splendid he was—and I said life could never be just the same to me again, now that Walter had gone—we were such friends, you know—why I was the very first person he told about having enlisted—and Rilla answered, as coolly and indifferently as if she were speaking of an entire stranger, ‘He was just one of many fine and splendid boys who have given everything for their country.’ Well, I wish I could take things as calmly,—but I’m not made like that. I’m so sensitive—things hurt me terribly—I really never get over them. I asked Rilla right out why she didn't put on mourning for