delightful years of my life and they have been years of war—years of fear and grief and worry,—but I humbly hope, of a little growth in strength and character as well.
“Today I was going through the hall and I heard mother saying something to father about me. I didn’t mean to listen—I couldn’t help hearing her as I went along the hall and upstairs—so perhaps that is why I heard what listeners are said never to hear—something good of myself. And because it was mother who said it I’m going to write it here in my journal, for my comforting when days of discouragement come upon me, in which I feel that I am vain and selfish and weak and that there is no good thing in me.
“‘Rilla has developed in a wonderful fashion these past four years. She used to be such an irresponsible young creature. She has changed into a capable, womanly girl and she is such a comfort to me. Nan and Di have grown a little away from me—they have been so little at home—but Rilla has grown closer and closer to me. We are chums. I don’t see how I could have got through these terrible years without her, Gilbert.’
“There, that is just what mother said—and I feel glad—and sorry—and proud—and humble! It’s beautiful to have my mother think that about me—but I don’t deserve it quite. I’m not as good and strong as all that. There are heaps of times when I have felt cross and impatient and woeful and despairing. It is mother and Susan who have been this family’s backbone. But I have helped a little, I believe, and I am so glad and thankful.
“The war news has been good right along. The
