A bell was ringing in the little church over-harbour and the lingering dream-notes died around the dim , amethystine points . The gulf beyond was still silvery blue in the afterlight . Oh , it was all glorious -- the clear air with its salt tang , the balsam of the firs , the laughter of her friends . Rilla loved life -- its bloom and brilliance ; she loved the ripple of music , the hum of merry conversation ; she wanted to walk on forever over this road of silver and shadow . It was her first party and she was going to have a splendid time . There was nothing in the world to worry about -- not even freckles and over-long legs -- nothing except one little haunting fear that nobody would ask her to dance . It was beautiful and satisfying just to be alive -- to be fifteen -- to be pretty . Rilla drew a long breath of rapture -- and caught it midway rather sharply . Jem was telling some story to Faith -- something that had happened in the Balkan War . `` The doctor lost both his legs -- they were smashed to pulp -- and he was left on the field to die . And he crawled about from man to man , to all the wounded men round him , as long as he could , and did everything possible to relieve their sufferings -- never thinking of himself -- he was tying a bit of bandage round another man 's leg when he went under . They found them there , the doctor 's dead hands still held the bandage tight , the bleeding was stopped and the other man 's life was saved . Some hero , was n't he , Faith ? I tell you when I read that -- '' Jem and Faith moved on out of hearing . Gertrude Oliver suddenly shivered . Rilla pressed her arm sympathetically . `` Was n't it dreadful , Miss Oliver ? I do n't know why Jem tells such gruesome things at a time like this when we 're all out for fun . '' `` Do you think it dreadful , Rilla ? I thought it wonderful -- beautiful .
Such a story makes one ashamed XXXXX ever doubting human nature .
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