Rilla did not sleep that night . Perhaps no one at Ingleside did except Jims . The body grows slowly and steadily , but the soul grows by leaps and bounds . It may come to its full stature in an hour . From that night Rilla Blythe 's soul was the soul of a woman in its capacity for suffering , for strength , for endurance . When the bitter dawn came she rose and went to her window . Below her was a big apple-tree , a great swelling cone of rosy blossom . Walter had planted it years ago when he was a little boy . Beyond Rainbow Valley there was a cloudy shore of morning with little ripples of sunrise breaking over it . The far , cold beauty of a lingering star shone above it . Why , in this world of springtime loveliness , must hearts break ? Rilla felt arms go about her lovingly , protectingly . It was mother -- pale , large-eyed mother . `` Oh , mother , how can you bear it ? '' she cried wildly . `` Rilla , dear , I 've known for several days that Walter meant to go . I 've had time to -- to rebel and grow reconciled . We must give him up . There is a Call greater and more insistent than the call of our love -- he has listened to it . We must not add to the bitterness of his sacrifice . ''
`` Our sacrifice is greater than his , '' cried XXXXX passionately .
Blythe Ingleside Jims Rilla Valley Walter days hour morning night