It was a golden morning when Rilla and Mother explored the garret for trunks of her childhood.

"I can't believe you managed to save these?" Rilla says in awe of the waists of the old dresses, and an old corset in a trunk. She wiggles out of her house dress and pulls on an old rosebud lawn, holding the waist and struggling to do it up. "It's so tiny!"

"Well, you have six children my dear and see how your body changes," Mother laughs. "You also have an entirely different shape these days, and you girls have all managed to have more of a figure than I ever had until children," Mother explains as she takes the closures and pulls the sides as much as she can close the bodice, still it was short by three centimetres in spots.

"I loved these dresses so much, Aunt Phil embroidered all these rosebuds one Christmas break, I don't know how she did it, but she did. All of Redmond was envious, your Father at the time, well we were in the middle of a two-year quarrel, and weren't speaking but I saw him watching from afar as he accompanied Christine Dawson, well Stuart back then on a favour of a friend. The whole thing was an affair that seems so silly to think about these days."

"Did you ever tell Aunt Phil and Uncle Jonas?" Rilla asks quietly and Mother is quiet for a moment.

"I wrote them around Christmas, it was the first time I could manage to explain to anyone what we, what you went through outside of other than Aunt Diana and Uncle Fred," Mother says quietly. "They gave us prayers because they didn't know what else to say in response, she reminded me that if my daughter was as strong as I was, that she would find her way to happiness or something close to it."

"If anything I live in the meadow of Asphodel, no longer afraid constantly. I am no longer swimming or drowning in the rivers of the underworld as Ken is when in the trenches. But Hades likes to remind me occasionally that I am his prisoner and that even in the rare moments where I have escaped his lair, he can always pull me back into it." Rilla says quickly.

"And yet you named your daughter Persephone?" Mother raises an eyebrow.

"She's the warm light of the underworld, she is spring and summer, the birth of seasons our lives live in," Rilla explains. "I will never forget, I will never be over it, but she is a seed born of good and that is what matters most."

"Speaking of seasons and cycles, with Seffie nursing less and less you'll most likely start again," Mother says approaching the subject with delicate straightforwardness. "If it hasn't already?"
"It hasn't but I think it will soon?" Rilla says honestly. "It's been almost two years but the signs of it are forthright still. That lack of energy, backache, and unpredictable moods is familiar enough. Except now I won't be able to lay around and groan at the unfairness," She sighs.

"Seffie is still young enough for cuddles in bed, honestly you girls kept me company enough when you were little when I wasn't feeling particularly well either," Mother reminds her. "Sometimes it can also be a bit heavier, but it does even out over time and goes back to normal."

Rilla nods her head, not looking forward to that at all and then her mother laughs out loud, giggling and shaking her head. "What?"

"Nothing, just remembering Marilla and Mrs. Lynde talking in the kitchen after I had been complaining about menstruation and Marilla in her way had agreed that it was a tedious thing but I remember Mrs Lynde clucking her tongue and I quote… 'I'd rather be expecting than dealing with a period…' Marilla just looked over her tea cup and muttered that explained the ten children. As a mother myself, I understand Mrs. Lynde's sentiment more because periods are never fun."


July 23rd 1917

I have completely forgotten about this journal, though I have a good excuse for I am raising a child. Or maybe it's good because I have needed it less?

I am eighteen now, strange to think that I am eighteen already. Mother made me a cake, and helped Seffie make me a drawing. I know I am eighteen, but how is she fourteen months? She is talking more and more these days, but mostly small words. Mama, Hello, Pop-pop for Father, and Granny for Mother, who is trying to get her to change it to Grammy, Granny makes her feel too old. She is too young to be a Granny she tells everyone!

Di and Nan are still fairly nameless at the moment having only been home for a few weeks. She is so sweet and stubborn at the same time. I can remember her birth as it is still fresh in my mind. All right it is a little hazy, but it's still all there—the feeling of contractions, the waves of pain, the smell of blood and the headaches.

Yet now she is walking, talking a few words and the light of everyone's life in Ingleside,

Father bought an automobile, green because it was Mother's favourite colour, and because red was considered too scandalous of a colour he was told. The horse is in retirement now, Susan thinks an automobile is untrustworthy and a red one would have been worse.

Susan's cousin Sophia and Mrs. Elliot agreed that a red one would have been satan's machine. Because they are dangerous, but Father got green, a dark forest green which is almost like my one hat and mother's dress he refused to allow her to recycle from their courting days.

It's fun to drive around with him, though we did get stuck in a stitch because old Miss Elizabeth refused to share the road with us. Father swore a bit under his breath, and Father never swears!

Mother and I found an old trunk of her old dresses when cleaning out the garret. Dresses from her college days, some from her engagement years, and of course her wedding dress which we have seen before. We were looking for old dresses of mine for Seffie, children's clothes haven't changed much in style, and I do like the thought of Seffie wearing my old childhood clothes as well.

I tried some on, but none of them fit as my waist is two inches larger, and my bust is as well but Mother says we can use some of the skirt material to make up something new with the old dresses. Mother says we have to ask Nan and Di if they are interested before we can start. Though a part of me is hesitant to ruin such pretty dresses, if anything trying them on was memories enough!


It happens on a Wednesday, a simple Wednesday afternoon as Rilla goes about her day as she usually does.

"Mama," Seffie toddles at her ankles, still hesitant in her steps, wobbling but determined to keep her attached to Rilla by clutching at her mother's skirts.

She hears the telephone ring and someone answers it as she roots around the pantry for the hidden biscuits she knows are around somewhere.

"Rilla!" Father's voice calls out briskly, almost in a panic.

"Yes?" She calls out, coming out of the pantry with the biscuits in her hand.

"That was Mr. Elliot, he said…he said that the House of Dreams is on fire. He called the fire wagon, they are already there and people with buckets." He tells her with

The old house of dreams…the vacation house—the house where Seffie was created was up in flames!

She drops her snack.

"I'll keep her," Susan says overhearing, reaching for Seffie. Rilla can only nod her head and go for her hat before abandoning it and Father has the automobile ready for them when she goes out front.

It's not as bad as what was in her mind, but still, it's gutting to see the old house burning from something unknown. He is barely stopped before she is out of the car, in disbelief as the men clear the burned sections. The barn was safe and was filled with the familiar objects and tokens of the Ford's history. Owen had gotten someone to clear out the house during the repairs thankfully but still, it was heartbreaking to see,

She doesn't know how long it takes before they manage to douse the flames. An hour?

"It will be all right, it can be rebuilt," Father says coming up beside her.

"I have to call Owen," Rilla says quietly. "He'll want to know, possibly even come access the damage. I won't bother with Ken, it will just be fixed anyway.

Father nods his head in agreement.

"Doc, do you think?" Someone comes up to him holding his arm that had a bleeding scratch. "I scratched myself on the edge of the wagon."

"Of course, I have my bag with me," Father says starting to turn to get it from the automobile before Rilla stops him.

"I'll get it!" Rilla tells him before she skips over to the auto to grab the bag where it was stashed and brings it to him.

The front house is deemed safe so they go into what was the front room. She watches Father clean and wrap up the wound and tells the worker to stop by for some salve to help it heal faster. She wanders up the stairs afterwards, sighing at the empty rooms. She stops at the old familiar one, bed still pushed against the wall.

She sighs against the door frame, leaning slightly. Echos of rain mixed with sighs, nerves and eventually little bits of laughter and all the love she could imagine. She sighs once more heavily.

"What was that for?" Father says coming up behind her.

"Nothing," She says blushing. "Nothing you would want to know about, truly," she adds on so he doesn't press into it. "Is it strange for you to be here having lived with Mom those first years of marriage or maybe it's the idea that I could live here with Ken when he returns? "

"Sometimes," Father admits nodding his head. "But it's also nice to remember those days, it saw our first arguments, heartbreaks and then renewal of hope, and joy. Joy would be married by now if she could have lived."

"Or maybe engaged, or maybe she would have shucked the whole idea," Rilla reminds him.

"True, I thought Di looked like her, born the smaller twin with red hair, but when you looked up at me as if you saw me, so alert for a newborn I realized you looked so much like her with your fine red hair and dark grey eyes. Not that any of you replaced her, but one can't help but draw parallels." Father explains.

"I think I can understand that," Rilla says after a moment. Looking into one of the back rooms, there was more damage to the side wall above the kitchen. "This one had such pretty paper in it too."

"You'll find something just as pretty," Father tells her. "We should get back home, you can try and call Owen at the very least we can send a telegram."

Rilla nods and follows him back to the automobile, and he tosses her the keys and she looks at him in confusion.

"Seffie isn't here, you might as well learn how to drive the car," Father tells her with a grin.

Rilla looks at him in shock but allows him to show her how to start it and put it into gear and it doesn't take her long to understand and feel comfortable with it.

"Jack Carter was asking about you earlier," Father tells her surprising her. "Nothing untoward, he was actually wondering if you might be able to work in the store during the harvest. Take his place, he was going to ask you directly but he didn't want to make you feel obligated, but he thinks you would be the best girl around for the job."

"Mary Vance is helping with the harvests, she even got herself a pair of overalls, and Miranda as well. Mr. Pryor didn't want her to buy them but someone reminded him having her at home was cheaper than a housekeeper," Rilla tells him with a chuckle.

"He is right about that," Father agrees. "You may work at the store if you wish to do it. His Father won't let anyone say anything uncouth, he also said you may bring Persephone if you wish to, you can bring a blanket and toys and have her behind the counter."

"I'll ring the store and see when he wants me and how long for," Rilla tells him. "I'll need darker gloves," she says observing looking at her light grey ones dirty from the black leather of the steering wheel.

"I'm sure Eatons will have plenty to sell you," Father laughs.

"You only say that because I have Ken's separation pay," Rilla turns her head to look at him, turning the wheel at the same time.

"Eyes on the road!" Father says sharply grabbing the wheel to straighten in.

"Sorry!" Rilla says squeaking.

"It's all right, and just so you know even if there hadn't been Ken or if there was no separation pay from Ken. I would have always taken care of you, I just told you that because I needed to see if you could do it for yourself," Father admits to her and Rilla steals a glance at him before turning back to the road and nodding a small smile.