Faith sailed for England less than a week later. It had been nearly two weeks since they had received the telegram about Jerry, and there had been no further news. Nan, who had been hopeful for a few days after Faith's announcement, was once more engulfed in grief and despair. She was convinced that Jerry had contracted a fever through an infection in his wound and that he was slowly dying. Nothing that Di said could convince Nan otherwise.

Nan had found that at least when she had had lectures to attend then her mind was partly taken off Jerry, though it can also be said that her lecture notes during this time failed to make much sense to anybody. But lectures for her had ended two days ago, and now she had nothing to do but let her imagination get the better of her. Nan had always loved her imagination, how it had allowed her to easily slip into fantasyland with no effort whatsoever. Now, however, she hated it. She hated what it was suggesting may be happening to Jerry. How every time she closed her eyes her imagination presented Jerry to her as a corpse.

Di, who still had lectures, was walking home from Redmond worrying over her twin. Nan had not eaten properly ever since they had received the telegram. She had tried, Di acknowledged that, but Nan after a bite or two had declared herself to be feeling sick and that she could not possibly eat anymore. Di still had two more days of lectures before she and Nan could go home to Glen St Mary, and she was sorely tempted to miss those days. Di recognised that Nan needed their Mother, more than she had ever needed her before.

As Di walked into the hall of their student house she noticed a note perched on the hall table addressed to her and in her sister's hand. Worried, she hastily read what Nan had written.

Darling Di,

I'm sorry if this seems sudden and I hope you won't think I'm abandoning you but I just had to go home. I needed to get away and attempt to stop thinking the worst. Mother always understands and if news does come of Jerry then at least I'll be on hand to receive it quickly. I hope you understand, and aren't cross with me for leaving you to go home alone. I hope you don't think I'm ungrateful for all you've done for me either, because I'm not. You are the best possible sister, twin and friend anyone could ask for.

Lots of Love,

Nan

Di was not cross. She understood Nan completely, and was relieved that her twin was going home where she would be spoilt and looked after by their Mother and Susan.

Nan, at this point of time, it was five o' clock, had just set foot on Prince Edward Island soil. She was tired and weak but determined to find a train and get home. However to Nan's disappointment the next train to the Glen did not depart for another two hours. Feeling that she may begin to cry at any second Nan hurriedly bit her lip, brought a newspaper, turning its pages quickly past the war news, and hid her pretty head behind it. This is how she occupied herself for two hours, though she never turned the pages once. At last the train pulled in, and Nan felt as if she was on the final lap of her journey home.

Eventually the train pulled into the Glen station. The only soul there to meet her was Dog Monday, who joyfully ran up to her, wagging his tail before he realised that there was no Jem with her. Nan bent down on her knees beside Dog Monday, tickled his ears and whispered, "I wish he was here too, you faithful old thing," before she picked up her bag, gave Dog Monday one final pat and began the walk to Ingleside.

There was no one else on the roads that night and Nan was pleased. She did not want to exchange small talk, listen to people's well meaning comments, or answer inquisitive questions. She was in a bitter and tired mood; she just wanted to be home. The walk was one of bittersweet memories for Nan. It was one she had walked with Jerry many a time and each twist and turn of the road brought a fresh memory of him to her. Instead of cutting through Rainbow Valley as she would usually have done Nan followed the road. She did not feel that she could handle the emotional strain of a walk through Rainbow Valley, with all its memories, any time soon given the state she was in.

Ingleside was bright and gleaming. Nan was glad; the dancing lights in the windows were welcoming her home. She went to the backdoor, it was always open, and besides Nan disliked the idea of ringing on the doorbell of your own home. Susan was in the kitchen setting the bread for the morning, she did not hear Nan come in and jumped when that young lady said in a lethargic and unknown voice, "Susan, please tell me that Mother is in. I can't bear for you to tell me she isn't!"

Susan clutching her heart in fright spun round and exclaimed, "Nan Blythe don't give me such a fright again!" Catching her breath she asked, "What are you doing here anyway, we did not expect you until the weekend. And where's your sister?"

"I'm sorry Susan." Nan told her. "I didn't mean to frighten you."

Susan's gaze softened, as she looked at Nan's weary, lined face. She had never seen her look so old before. "It doesn't matter," She told her. "I should be used to it by now what with that cat. Your Mother is in the lounge writing to your Aunt Diana, do you want me to get her for you?"

"No thank-you," Nan said kissing Susan on the cheek, "I'll go."

Nan made sure to knock on the lounge door, she had no wish to scare her Mother like she had Susan.

"Come in." A sweet, dear voice called, and Nan opened the door and entered the room. "Nan, darling, where have you come from!" Anne exclaimed as she made her way towards her daughter and enveloped her in a hug.

"Oh Mother," Nan said, beginning to sob, as hugged her Mother tightly. "I just had to come home, I couldn't take it any longer."