On his last evening at home they went together to Rainbow Valley and sat down on the bank of the brook , under the White Lady , where the gay revels of olden days had been held in the cloudless years . Rainbow Valley was roofed over with a sunset of unusual splendour that night ; a wonderful grey dusk just touched with starlight followed it ; and then came moonshine , hinting , hiding , revealing , lighting up little dells and hollows here , leaving others in dark , velvet shadow . `` When I am ` somewhere in France , ' '' said Walter , looking around him with eager eyes on all the beauty his soul loved , `` I shall remember these still , dewy , moon-drenched places . The balsam of the fir-trees ; the peace of those white pools of moonshine ; the ` strength of the hills ' -- what a beautiful old Biblical phrase that is . Rilla ! Look at those old hills around us -- the hills we looked up at as children , wondering what lay for us in the great world beyond them . How calm and strong they are -- how patient and changeless -- like the heart of a good woman . Rilla-my-Rilla , do you know what you have been to me the past year ? I want to tell you before I go . I could not have lived through it if it had not been for you , little loving , believing heart . '' Rilla dared not try to speak . She slipped her hand into Walter 's and pressed it hard . `` And when I 'm over there , Rilla , in that hell upon earth which men who have forgotten God have made , it will be the thought of you that will help me most . I know you 'll be as plucky and patient as you have shown yourself to be this past year -- I 'm not afraid for you . I know that no matter what happens , you 'll be Rilla-my-Rilla -- no matter what happens . '' Rilla repressed tear and sigh , but she could not repress a little shiver , and Walter knew that he had said enough . After a moment of silence , in which each made an unworded promise to each other , he said , `` Now we wo n't be sober any more . We 'll look beyond the years -- to the time when the war will be over and Jem and Jerry and I will come marching home and we 'll all be happy again . '' `` We wo n't be -- happy -- in the same way , '' said Rilla . `` No , not in the same way .
Nobody whom this war has touched will ever be happy again XXXXX quite the same way .
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