Father says we can go . Come on . '' At any other time Walter would have been delighted . He gloried in the burning of the sand-hill grass . But now he flatly refused to go , and no arguments or entreaties could move him . Disappointed Jem , who did not care for the long dark walk to Four Winds Point alone , retreated to his museum in the garret and buried himself in a book . He soon forgot his disappointment , revelling with the heroes of old romance , and pausing occasionally to picture himself a famous general , leading his troops to victory on some great battlefield . Walter sat at his window until bedtime . Di crept in , hoping to be told what was wrong , but Walter could not talk of it , even to Di . Talking of it seemed to give it a reality from which he shrank . It was torture enough to think of it . The crisp , withered leaves rustled on the maple trees outside his window . The glow of rose and flame had died out of the hollow , silvery sky , and the full moon was rising gloriously over Rainbow Valley . Afar off , a ruddy woodfire was painting a page of glory on the horizon beyond the hills . It was a sharp , clear evening when far-away sounds were heard distinctly . A fox was barking across the pond ; an engine was puffing down at the Glen station ; a blue-jay was screaming madly in the maple grove ; there was laughter over on the manse lawn . How could people laugh ? How could foxes and blue-jays and engines behave as if nothing were going to happen on the morrow ? `` Oh , I wish it was over , '' groaned Walter . He slept very little that night and had hard work choking down his porridge in the morning .
Susan WAS rather lavish XXXXX her platefuls .
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