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Updated: May 9, 2025
One can pay too high a price for mere life, little sister. There's so much hideousness in this war I've got to go and help wipe it out of the world. I'm going to fight for the beauty of life, Rilla-my-Rilla that is my duty. There may be a higher duty, perhaps but that is mine. I owe life and Canada that, and I've got to pay it.
"Mother sat a little while in silence. Then she came over, sat down beside me, and took me in her arms. "'Don't cry, dear little Rilla-my-Rilla. You have nothing to reproach yourself with in regard to Fred; and if Leslie West's son asked you to keep your lips for him, I think you may consider yourself engaged to him.
"Rap wood," said Gertrude Oliver, half laughingly, half seriously. "Rap wood, Rilla-my-Rilla." Rilla, who still buttoned up her eyes when she went to sleep so that she always looked as if she were laughing in her slumber, yawned, stretched, and smiled at Gertrude Oliver.
"I loved Jem of course but when he went away we thought the war would soon be over and you are everything to me, Walter." "You must be brave to help me, Rilla-my-Rilla. I'm exalted tonight drunk with the excitement of victory over myself but there will be other times when it won't be like this I'll need your help then." "When do you go?" She must know the worst at once.
There are times when I wish I had never been born. Life has always seemed such a beautiful thing to me and now it is a hideous thing. Rilla-my-Rilla, if it weren't for your letters your dear, bright, merry, funny, comical, believing letters I think I'd give up. And Una's! Una is really a little brick, isn't she?
"This is better luck than I hoped for," said Ken, leaning back in his chair and looking at her with very unconcealed admiration in his eloquent eyes. "I was sure someone would be hanging about and it was just you I wanted to see, Rilla-my-Rilla." Rilla's dream castle flashed into the landscape again. This was unmistakable enough certainly not much doubt as to his meaning here.
She didn't feel so lonely and superfluous any longer. "Don't you despise me, Rilla-my-Rilla?" asked Walter wistfully. Somehow, it hurt him to think Rilla might despise him hurt him as much as if it had been Di. He realized suddenly how very fond he was of this adoring kid sister with her appealing eyes and troubled, girlish face. "No, I don't. Why, Walter, hundreds of people feel just as you do.
The personality that had expressed itself in that last letter, written on the eve of Courcelette, could not be snuffed out by a German bullet. It must carry on, though the earthly link with things of earth were broken. "We're going over the top tomorrow, Rilla-my-Rilla," wrote Walter. "I wrote mother and Di yesterday, but somehow I feel as if I must write you tonight.
"Write me often and bring Jims up faithfully, according to the gospel of Morgan," Walter said lightly, having said all his serious things the night before in Rainbow Valley. But at the last moment he took her face between his hands and looked deep into her gallant eyes. "God bless you, Rilla-my-Rilla," he said softly and tenderly.
I know you'll be as plucky and patient as you have shown yourself to be this past year I'm not afraid for you. I know that no matter what happens, you'll be Rilla-my-Rilla no matter what happens." Rilla repressed tear and sigh, but she could not repress a little shiver, and Walter knew that he had said enough.
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