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 But somehow I never had any hankering for a college course, and even now it doesn’t appeal to me. I’m afraid I’m rather devoid of ambition. There is only one thing I really want to be—and I don’t know if I’ll ever be it or not. If not—I don’t want to be anything. But I shan’t write it down. It is all right to think it; but, as Cousin Sophia would say, it might be brazen to write it down.

“I will write it down. I won’t be cowed by the conventions and Cousin Sophia! I want to be Kenneth Ford’s wife! There, now!

“I’ve just looked in the glass, and I hadn’t the sign of a blush on my face. I suppose I’m not a properly constructed damsel at all.

“I was down to see little Dog Monday today. He has grown quite stiff and rheumatic but there he sat, waiting for the train. He thumped his tail and looked pleadingly into my eyes. ‘When will Jem come?’ he seemed to say. Oh, Dog Monday, there is no answer to that question; and there is, as yet, no answer to the other which we are all constantly asking ‘What will happen when Germany strikes again on the western front—her one great, last blow for victory!”

March 1st, 1918

“‘What will spring bring?’ Gertrude said today. ‘I dread it as I never dreaded spring before. Do you suppose there will ever again come a time when life will be free from fear? For almost four years we have lain down with fear and risen up with it. It has been the unbidden guest at every meal, the unwelcome companion at every gathering.’