What say , dad ? '' The doctor 's hands were not quite steady as he folded up the powders he was concocting for Abbie Flagg 's rheumatism . He had known this moment was coming , yet he was not altogether prepared for it . He answered slowly , `` I wo n't try to hold you back from what you believe to be your duty . But you must not go unless your mother says you may . '' Shirley said nothing more . He was not a lad of many words . Anne did not say anything more just then , either . She was thinking of little Joyce 's grave in the old burying-ground over-harbour -- little Joyce who would have been a woman now , had she lived -- of the white cross in France and the splendid grey eyes of the little boy who had been taught his first lessons of duty and loyalty at her knee -- of Jem in the terrible trenches -- of Nan and Di and Rilla , waiting -- waiting -- waiting , while the golden years of youth passed by -- and she wondered if she could bear any more . She thought not ; surely she had given enough . Yet that night she told Shirley that he might go . They did not tell Susan right away . She did not know it until , a few days later , Shirley presented himself in her kitchen in his aviation uniform . Susan did n't make half the fuss she had made when Jem and Walter had gone . She said stonily , `` So they 're going to take you , too . '' `` Take me ? No . I 'm going , Susan -- got to . '' Susan sat down by the table , folded her knotted old hands , that had grown warped and twisted working for the Ingleside children to still their shaking , and said : `` Yes , you must go . I did not see once why such things must be , but I can see now . ''
`` You 're a brick , XXXXX , '' said Shirley .
Anne Flagg France Ingleside Joyce Shirley Susan first over-harbour years