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Chapter Text

Ken paused at the entrance to the barn, his ankle throbbing. For the tenth time that day, he silently cursed the Redmond player who had broken his ankle during the Homecoming game. Susan Baker would have been horrified to know that Ken cursed at all, but Ken had been learning many things that would have shocked Susan from the somewhat fast crowd he had been keeping company in Toronto. He brightened slightly seeing the Ingleside and Manse boys on the other side of the room. Crossing the room, he felt the glances of the Island girls admiring his white summer suit, the latest in Toronto fashion.
“Gentlemen, what’s the good word today?”
“Pies, pies of all sorts today. Are you in the mood for something sweet?” Jem replied in the manner of a carnival barker, “You did make it over. How’s the ankle holding up? What did the doctor say?” Jem began to peer down at his friend’s ankle as if he might begin to examine it at any given moment.
Ken replied, “I don’t think you need to examine it right now when the Fair Faith’s pie is about to go on the block. It still bothers me, and I may come over to get your father’s opinion soon. I swear so many times I’d like to see that confounded Nicholas get what he deserves.” Ken’s hand briefly clenched, and he finished with more than a trace of bitterness at the lineman he held responsible for the injury.
“Ted Nicholas is my roommate and fraternity brother,” Jerry stated coolly, “and I doubt there’s a fairer man in Kingsport.”
“How do you know its Faith’s pie?” Shirley asked. Shirley was the Blythe that had inherited his father’s temper, the one that could withstand having a slate cracked over his head. If an argument was brewing, Shirley was surely the one to redirect everyone’s attention.
“Sure, kiddo. See how Faith’s hair is tied with blue and yellow ribbons? Now look at the box. It’s tied with the same ribbons. A fellow must be wise to that sort of thing. You wouldn’t want to accidentally bid on Irene Howard’s pie and spend an afternoon with those goggle eyes. I still have nightmares about the time I went to Avonlea with you and met the Sloanes.”
“Mother says the Howards are related to both the Sloanes and the Pyes,” Walter added, “I’ll believe it as you can see there is no poetry in Irene’s soul.”
Ken laughed, “I think it’s her lips not her soul that I care about containing poetry.”
None of the fellows responded. Ken rolled his eyes to himself. The Blythes and Merediths were a good bunch, but they didn’t have the certain tang of his friends in Toronto. It was the twentieth century after all; no man was going to wait until after he had proposed to kiss a girl. He turned and viewed the next two boxes. The boxes were identical except one was pink and one was green. He could tell by the crust that they were pinched in a way distinctive to the Ingleside kitchen. He also knew that red-haired Diana would never be near anything pink unlike her twin, Nan. He made up his mind to win one of the boxes. He considered both to be good friends and would enjoy spending an afternoon with either.
The auctioneer held up the pink box, “Opening bid, who will give me one dollar to spend an afternoon with the pretty baker of this pie?”
Several of the boys raised their hands for one, and for two, less held them up for three. Ken glanced over and saw Jerry glaring at him as he crossed his arms across his chest. Ken remembered a letter he had received from Walter about how much time Nan and Jerry had spent together this past winter at Redmond. Ken was pretty sure ministers in training were not supposed to slug old friends but decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Jerry won the pie for five dollars.
“Thank you and enjoy your afternoon,” the auctioneer said, “Now who will start the bidding on this next pie that I understand is very special? One dollar, one?”
At least a dozen boys raised their hand. The bidding continued up, and Ken felt his determination to win rise. At eight dollars, only Carl, Fred Arnold, and Ken were left. Carl glanced around and shrugged grinning at the young boy and college man. He knew that the baker of the pie had been worried that the pie would not get many bids. It didn’t seem like a problem since Fred had just bid eleven dollars, which had to be his last six months’ allowance.
Ken drew himself up to his full height and loudly stated, “Fifteen dollars” to the auctioneer. Fred’s face fell in disappointment. There was no way he could outbid the son of a famous author.
“Our highest bid so far! Please go over to the table to pay and meet the lady who will be entertaining you this afternoon. The Ladies Auxiliary will thank you.”
Victory had allowed Ken to relax and smile as he made his way over to the door, this time easily returning the greetings of old friends. As he made his way through the door, he saw Rilla waiting for him. “Rilla! What are you doing at the pie auction? Did you see me just win Di’s?”
Rilla drew a deep breath and spoke with an odd precision, “Mother and Father agreed I was old enough to enter a pie in the auction, after all I am nearly fifteen. My pie was tied in a green box like Nan’s pink one.”
Ken was taken back. He had never considered that the pie could be Rilla’s. However, it was a beautiful day, and Rilla had always been nice to him when they were alone or with Walter. When she was with Persis, they were usually trying to terrorize him, but that probably said more about his sister than her.
“Then it’s my lucky day, where do you suggest we have our picnic?”
“What about the garden at the Houthe of Dreamth?” Rilla had forgotten to watch her speech in her excitement over sharing a lunch with Ken.
“Sounds like a plan. I’ve wanted to check on it anyway. What adventures do you have planned? I heard you finished school this spring. Are you going to Queens?”
“No, I really have no interest in studying any more dusty books. I’m not sure how Mother has used her B.A. since marrying Father.”
“You have plenty of time to decide anyway. What will you do?”
Rilla smiled, “Go to dances and have beaux fighting over my last dance.”
“Ah, a girl after my own heart. Here we are.” Ken and Rilla spread out the blanket in the garden and began to unpack the picnic.
“Will you be able to play football in the fall?”
“The doctors aren’t sure, but at least they haven’t forbidden it yet.” Ken was quiet for the moment. He wanted to be a journalist and read the newspaper each morning. If the situation in Europe didn’t change soon, he was afraid no one would be playing football in the fall. But that was not today; today he was on a picnic. “Are Carl Meredith and Fred Arnold lining up to be your beaux?”
“Carl is not. He and I made a solemn vow five years ago that we were good friends and would never marry each other. I was afraid no one would bid on my pie, so I made Carl promise to bid on it.”
“It was the one with the highest bidder today. I don’t think you have to worry, besides who wouldn’t want to share a meal with the prettiest of the Blythe girls.”
“Thank you. I am pretty, aren’t I? Sometimes I think it, but Nan and Di always point out how vain I am.”
“Maybe they are jealous, it can’t be easy to be outshone by your baby sister,” Ken realized he meant the practiced lines that were coming out of his mouth. “Anyway, what about Fred Arnold?”
“I like Fred, but….well, he’s hardly a romantic figure,” Rilla sighed, “Beside each time we take a walk. Miss Cornelia comes to the house and points out that he’s a Methodist. I’m not sure what’s wrong with the Methodists.”
“It’s not them, it’s her. Next time tell her that when I was in Paris, I danced with –“ Ken broke off and grinned while he lowered his voice, “A Catholic. Nothing wrong with them either, but it will certainly shock Miss Cornelia.”
“I don’t think I will. What was Paris like? It sounds divine.” Rilla tried out a word she had read in a magazine recently.
“It was quite beautiful. I adored Prague, there’s so much poetry there that even Walter would tire of it.”
“I doubt that, but it sounds wonderful.”
“You would enjoy London. All the titled ladies and gentlemen think that Canada is a wild untamed place, as if Toronto was no different from Dawson City. They find out that we are civilized and cannot wait to invite “the famous writer and his family just must come to our ball; it will be utterly too-too.”
“They still have balls? I would love to dance the night away at one.”
“The gentleman must sign the lady’s dance card early in the evening. If he interrupts a dance, why it could be pistols at dawn!”
“Really?”
“No, but they do say things like ‘milady, would you please do me the honor of sharing the next waltz with me,” Ken stood and bowed low over Rilla.
She grinned and reached for the fan she had placed in her pocket, “Why thank you, kind sir.” She snapped open her fan to hide her face.
Ken took her hand and pulled her up to dance. Rilla was a natural dancer. “London would declare you ‘a smash.’ You would love it. Maybe I should talk to Mother and Father about inviting you the next time they travel. I know Persis would appreciate company besides her ancient brother.” Ken had a sudden vision of Rilla in a ball gown. He felt a bit breathless and missed the next step. “Drat this ankle.”
“Oh! Is it bothering you? We should sit down. Tell me what Persis has been doing lately. I have to say she’s not the best correspondent. How is college in Toronto?”
“I’ll be alright. College is wonderful. I’ve met so many interesting people - women fighting for their right to vote and be in the government; men interested in flying around the world. Everyone is so eager to experience life. We spend time sitting around and debating the beginnings and end of this world and our place in it. It’s so…stimulating. Persis – where to start? She does spend a lot of time with my friends and me. I’m not sure if the fellows will break her heart or she theirs. Don’t tell anyone but she smokes cigarettes when we are out. Most of the suffragettes do, I think it’s to show that women can do anything men can. She’s cut her hair up to here.” Ken leaned forward to mark a spot halfway between Rilla’s ear and shoulder, but he lost his train of thought as he looked into her eyes from this closer perspective.
Rilla swallowed and blushed, “I would be locked in my room for any of those things.”
“You’re blushing,” Ken moved his hand closer to her cheek.
“No! I hate it when I blush. I look like such a child.”
“It’s pretty. It means that you haven’t developed the hard shell that so many have today. Maybe I want to say more things to make you blush.”
Rilla looked down as Ken moved his hand to her chin. What would happen next was lost as the pair heard voices through the trees. Both straightened up and looked everywhere but at each other.
“I should gather these dishes up before the crowd arrives,” Rilla started to turn towards the blanket.
“Milady, please sit. What kind of knight lets so fair a maiden complete such menial tasks? Your humble knight will gather yon dishes.”
Rilla curtsied and giggled, feeling on solid ground once again. “Why thank you, kind sir.”
Ken handed the dishes to Rilla, who placed them in the picnic basket. “I think that is the last one.” Ken held out his hand to help Rilla stand. “Thank you for the lovely afternoon, milady.” Ken gave a theatrical bow and pressed a kiss into Rilla’s white hand. He had meant the moment to keep with the courtly spirit they had shared during the afternoon; however, he was startled by his desire to keep holding the slim white hand. In Toronto, he was usually more than happy to return the young lady to her Mama at the end of an outing. “Will you be at the Harbor Light Dance?”
“Yes. Mother says I may. It will be my first dance. I simply cannot stand the wait. I want to wear the slippers Aunt Leslie sent me for Christmas last year.”
“Ah, your first chance to begin to gather those many beaus. Will you promise to save me a waltz?”
“Of courthe,” Rilla winced as the lisp came out. Ken’s smile was making her heart race with the wind, but it was the look in his eyes that took her breath away.
Anything else Ken would have said was lost as the crush of assorted Blythes and Meridiths broke through the trees. Rilla was swept away by a giggling Diana and Una. Ken stood watching her for a second before he became aware of a pair of dark eyes studying him, and a hand on his arm. “Walter, old man! Which lovely lady did you share a pie with this afternoon?”
“If you hurt my sister, I will have to hurt you,” Walter stated this calmly as if threatening harm to his oldest friend was a commonplace event.
“I would not dream of it. I didn’t realize until today what a sweet young lady she has become.” Ken protested.
“She is only fourteen, and no matter what she says, she’s not as sophisticated as Toronto girls.”
“Walter, I promise you I have no intention of toying with her. I value my friendship with your family to ever too much.”
“Are you coming?”
“No, I’d better head over Harbour.” Ken turned and walked away. He was slightly upset that Walter would worry about his treatment of Rilla. Yes, he enjoyed his time with the fairer gender as much as they seemed to enjoy his. To his knowledge, he had never broken a heart so severely that chocolate bonbons could not heal it. Now was not going to be the time he started. Ken rounded the bend in the road and reached into his jacket pocket for a cigar. As he did, he noticed a delicate handkerchief with BMB embroidered in the corner laying on the ground. Rilla was truly the sweetest girl he had ever met and one of the prettiest. He would have a hard time claiming his waltz at the dance. Ken smiled as he stooped to pick it up, if he had to return the cloth it would give him a reason to interrupt a dance. He began to whistle along with the faint piping he could hear coming from across the water. Ken had yet to realize how the Piper’s piping would affect the dance at the lighthouse. Or that he would be like many others who would take such a small token with them to Flander’s fields and to the trenches of France.

Chapter Text

Rilla closed her journal with a little sigh.  Just then she was not finding it easy to keep faith.  All the rest seemed to have some special aim or ambition about which to build up their lives – she had none.  And she was lonely, horribly lonely.  Jem had come back – but he was not the laughing boy-brother who had gone way in 1914 and he belonged to Faith.  Walter would never come back.  She had not even Jims left.  All at once her world seemed wide and empty – that is, it had seemed wide and empty from the moment yesterday when she had read in a Montreal paper a fortnight-old list of returned soldiers in which was the name of Captain Kenneth Ford.

So Ken was home – and he had not even written her that he was coming.  He had been in Canada two weeks and she had not a line from him.  Of course he had forgotten - if there was ever anything to forget – a handclasp – a kiss – a look – a promise asked under the influence of a passing emotion.  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 very slowly, and opened the front door.

A man in khaki was standing on the steps a with dark eyes and hair and a narrow running across his brown cheek.  Rilla stared foolishly for a moment.  Who was it?

She ought to know him - there was certainly very familiar about him-

“Rilla my Rilla,” he said.

“Ken,” gasped Rilla.  Of course it was Ken – but he looked so much older -  be 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.  He had left a school girl ,and he found a woman -  a woman with wonderful eyes and a dented lip, and rose bloom cheek, - a woman altogether beautiful and desirable - the woman of his dreams.

“ Is it Rilla my Rilla,” he asked meaningly.

Emotion shook Rilla from head to foot.  Joy -  happiness -  sorrow - fear every passion that had wrung her heart in those four long years seemed to surge up in her soul for a moment as the deeps of being were stirred.  She tried to speak; at first voice would not come.  Then –

“ Yeth,” said Rilla. - From Rilla of Ingleside

Ken reached forward and drew her across the doorstep to himself.  He placed a kiss on top of her head and placed his cheek on top of her hair.  The softness convinced him that Rilla truly was in his arms.  Ken reached down and tilted her mouth up to his.  He kissed her as he dreamed about for the past several years.  It was several moments before Ken realized that Rilla had frozen in his arms.  Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t spoken since Rilla had replied with that endearing lisp.  Ken had simply grabbed her without ceremony.  Susan had said that was his habit once.  Ken pulled away, but kept a firm grip on Rilla’s hands.  “Sorry, I think I was carried away.”

“What…how…Ken,” Rilla stuttered before bursting into tears, “I thought you had forgotten about me.”

Ken drew her over to the porch swing and cuddled her close.  “Why would you think that, my darling?  Here, take my handkerchief.”

“I saw in the Toronto paper that you’ve been back for nearly a month.  I’ve not heard from you.”  Rilla sniffed and delicately wiped her nose.  She wasn’t acting nearly as wise as she had vowed – was it a few minutes ago?  Years seemed to have passed.

“The joys of being an officer.  I’ve spent three weeks logging men and equipment in and out.  I wanted to see you, Mother, Father, and believe it or not even Persis.  I wired home, but you didn’t get the message?”

“No,” Rilla looked down at the cloth she was twirling between her fingers.  “This has my initials on it?”

“You dropped it after our picnic.  I was going to return it at the Harbor Dance, but all hell broke loose.  It’s been all over Europe with me.”

Rilla was shocked that Ken had carried something of hers for five years and she never knew it.

Ken winced, “I’m sorry for swearing.  I’m still getting used to being around ladies again.”

“I think I understand.  How are you?  What happened to your cheek?” Rilla reached out a hand.

“I didn’t “Cover” well one time when I “Ducked.”  A kiss might make it better.” A smile crossed his lips as some of his ease with girls returned.

Rilla leaned forward.  There was something in Kenneth’s eyes she couldn’t refuse.

After a few minutes, Ken moved away.  “I do have a confession before we continue.  I found a job with the Charlottetown paper this morning.  I’m going to live full time on the Island.  This afternoon, I found your father.  He seemed very confused, but he gave his consent,” Ken took a deep breath and slowly pulled a ring box out of his uniform jacket as he went down on one knee, “For me to ask for your hand.”  Ken waited, holding his breath.  He was asking someone to marry him after maybe three dates.  Was she going to laugh at him?

His worry was for nothing.  Rilla flew into his arms.  Ken placed the ring on her finger and drew her back to the swing; this time on his lap.  What was said next is best left to the dear reader’s imagination.  Suffice it to say a dream castle was being constructed, but not as they had created on their own five years ago.  This one was more humble, but much richer as the years had changed our hero and heroine.

The sun was beginning to set.  Ken drew the recently bejeweled hand to his lips, “I – “

“What is going on here?” came a thunderous voice.  Jem stormed onto the porch with Jerry a half-step behind him.  “My sister isn’t like one of the women following the army!”  Nan and Faith were a couple steps back gathering the picnic basket that had dropped to the ground.

“Jem!” Rilla exclaimed.

“Go into the house while I deal with this.”

“I am not a little girl to be ordered around.” Rilla stamped her foot.

Nan moved forward, “Of course, you aren’t, but come into the house with us before one of us finds a slate to break over the other’s head.”

Rilla stomped into the house followed by Nan and Faith, “Why does everyone continue to treat me like a child?” Rilla fumed, gesturing wildly with each word.

“We – What is on your hand?” Faith interrupted herself grabbing Rilla’s hand to examine the large emerald offset by pearls.

“It’s the ring Ken just gave to me.  He says he remembers how good green looked on me.  The pearls represent the tears from the past few years.”

“How long have you been engaged to Ken?” Nan asked feeling as if she had stepped into a rabbit hole when she entered the Ingleside gate.

“I’m not sure.  Mother says when he was proposing when he asked me not to kiss anyone else while he was away, but I wasn’t sure.  I’m sure now.” Rilla sighed and looked down at her ring with a blissful smile.

“Mother knew?  Did anyone else?  Di and I never knew.” Nan started to ask logical questions to sort things out.

“Mother found me crying after Fred Arnold asked me to marry him.  When I refused, he asked for a kiss, and I couldn’t.  I felt so badly.  I had promised Ken, but I wasn’t certain what I had promised.”

“Two men have proposed to my baby sister, and I never knew,” Nan marveled.

Faith had been standing by, feeling like she was watching a tennis match.  She could tell that Rilla was losing patience with the baby sister comments.  “And you ended up with the finest looking man to step foot on this Island in a long time.  Now Nan, I think your brother is very attractive, just as you think mine is, but you have to agree Kenneth Ford has long been in a class by himself.  There are three weddings to plan.  Promising not to kiss anyone else sounds so much more romantic than Jem’s proposal that involved stories about soldiers dying in long ago wars.”  Faith chattered until she saw that both Rilla and Nan had calmed down.   The Blythe kids certainly inherited their mother’s temper.  “Let’s get some lemonade for the men.  Isn’t it great that we can use all the sugar we want again?”

Nan followed Faith into the kitchen.  While Rilla followed, it could be suggested she drifted to the door as she could barely take her eyes off her hand.

Meanwhile outside –

“Now that the girls have gone inside, perhaps you could explain why Rilla was sitting on your lap.” Jerry stated folding his arms.

Ken rolled his eyes.  He didn’t appreciate the paternalistic tone in Jerry’s voice.  “I was simply enjoying my first chance in several years to spend time with my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?  Who said it was okay?  My sister is very young, and I repeat, a lady unlike many who were around the army.”

“I’m starting to wonder about the time you spent with Faith during the war, Jem, as you seem to know so much about the women over there.  Your sister is nineteen years old, and your father gave me his blessing this morning.  Is there anything else I need to explain to you?”  Ken realized he was speaking harshly, but darn it, he had imagined a romantic evening out of one of his father’s books with his lovely new fiancée.  Not engaging in schoolyard insults with her brother, yet Jem was one of his oldest friends.  “Sorry, I snapped at you, but I hadn’t expected a fight from you tonight.”

“I guess I’m just confused.  I know you bought Rilla’s pie at the Auxiliary auction years ago, but that seems different than asking her to be your wife.”

“We spent some time together at the Lighthouse dance.  We started writing to each other.  I started to understand that the Baby was becoming a sweet lady.  I came here for my last leave and managed to spend an evening with Rilla, Jims, and Susan “

“All three?” Jem quirked an eyebrow.

“Yes, I wasn’t sure if it was by plan or not.  I saw her with Jims and suddenly I could see my own house and children.  It was Rilla who was listening to their secrets and bandaging their knees.  I wanted to propose then, but I knew I was headed ‘Over There’ – who was I to ask her to wait for me?”

“I guess that could happen.” Jerry said.

“We’re going to all be brothers soon.” Jem said, “I know the two of you are both the Race that knows Joseph, why does it feel like I’m about to start refereeing a match when I’m around you both?”

Jerry and Ken looked at each other for the first time in a long time.  For so many years, it had seemed like the Merediths had a competition with Ken and Persis over who was a closer friend to the Blythes.  All that fell away, and they saw the weariness in the other’s eyes.  So many years had been spent fighting, a truly evil enemy; childhood battles seemed meaningless now.

“One more thing, speaking of brothers – “ Ken realized something might help Jem come to terms with his engagement.

“Speaking of brothers, what?” Nan carried a tray of glasses outside, “Is it safe to come outside?  We come bearing lemonade.”

The men turned towards the doors; each reaching out to draw someone next to him.  Nan, Faith, and Rilla had matured into women, but there was an innocence to them that the men longed to recapture.

 “Shouldn’t Di, Walter, and the others be coming back soon?” Ken asked.  He leaned back in the swing and brought Rilla’s trembling hand up to his mouth again as he realized the names he had listed.  “I’m sorry – of course – I know”

“It wasn’t real, was it?” Jerry leaned forward, “You saw men die every day, but they weren’t your friends or your family.  They were safe “Somewhere” else.  Now you’re back and it doesn’t seem true that they are still “somewhere in France”.”

They all sat somberly for a moment lost in memories.

“Now, what were you saying when we came out about brothers?” Nan was never one to miss a detail tried to get the conversation started again.

Ken squeezed Rilla’s hand.  “I saw Walter one night in Beauvais.  We were bringing supplies to his unit.”

Nan and Rilla gave quick gasp.  It was hard to imagine their poet brother as a soldier.  This was the first time that someone could share about his life over there.

“Walter asked if I had heard from any of you.  It had been a couple weeks I told him.  He asked me if I was sure, it had been a couple weeks since I heard from Rilla.  I think it was the first time I’d ever heard Walter tease, but the mail seemed to have been stuck in the mud.  He asked me about my intentions.  It was the first time I talked about us out loud, though my men did always wonder who sent me all the socks and goodies.  He nodded quickly, ‘Good, good.  Rilla and I talked the night before I left.  I just feel certain that you will go home to her.  Tell her, Di and Nan that I love them.  He smiled and then added, “Walter Ford would be a very good name.”  I wanted to tell him that he would be coming home with us, but there wasn’t time.  We shook hands and – that was it.”

Everyone sat still watching the sun finish setting over the horizon.

As the lightening bugs began to flash, Faith spoke up.  “Now we have three weddings to plan.  What colors are we going to choose, where will they be, and can one of us arrange to beat Mary Vance married?”

“Why do we want to beat Mary Vance to the altar,” Jem asked his eyes twinkling in a way they hadn’t in a long time.

“Because after the Harbor Dance, after all of you left me there,” Rilla glanced around the group, “she took me home and rubbed cod liver oil on my feet and told me I was a little fool to think Ken Ford would give me a second thought.”

“Because she asked me if I thought Jerry would still become a minister after the war.  Then she told me all about how Miller Douglas is going to be the most successful storekeeper the Island has ever seen,” Nan added.

“Because we love her, but no one here wants to spend the next sixty years hearing about how Miller was the first Glen boy to race his beloved to Father when he came home,” Faith concluded.

“I see,” said Ken.  “First, let me assure you that I did give you a second thought.  Secondly, my parents and Persis are due at the House of Dreams tomorrow.  I was too impatient to wait another day.  I’m sure between you ladies, Mrs. Blythe, and them, you all can concoct all the plans you would like.”

“I’ll agree,” Jerry said, “Jem, Ken are you up for a fishing trip tomorrow?  I doubt the ladies will want her help.”

“If we go down to the House of Dreams,” Faith smiled, “we can stop at Miss Cornelia’s on the way back to show off your ring.  Now don’t start, Rilla.  We’ve all been through a lot and deserve to have some fun.  You know, Mary will laugh with us one day, so you don’t have to worry about hurting her feelings.”

Plans were thrown around with laughter growing more and more extravagant.  Anne and Gilbert stopped just outside the gate.  “Look, Gilbert!  The porch is full, and they are laughing.  I had begun to stop hoping that would ever happen again.  Is that Ken Ford there as well?  Oh! I wonder if he surprised Rilla?”

“I think he did.  At least, he surprised me today.  Could you drop a hint the next time one of our children gets engaged?”

“I think I could do that.  Should we go up to say hello?”

“Let’s let the young people, be young again.  And the old people can slip in the back door.” Gilbert flashed a smile down at the love of his life.

Anne smiled, “I thought I would never say this again, but I feel very Blythe.”