She had one of those souls that are always tied to the stake, burning in the suffering of the world around them.

Apart from her own personal interest in the war, she was racked by the thought of Paris falling into the ruthless hands of the hordes who had burned Louvain and ruined the wonder of Rheims.
But on the morrow and the next morrow came the news of the miracle of the Marne.

Rilla rushed madly home from the office waving the Enterprise with its big red headlines.

Susan ran out with trembling hands to hoist the flag.

The doctor stalked about muttering "Thank God." Mrs.Blythe cried and laughed and cried again.
"God just put out His hand and touched them--'thus far--no farther'," said Mr.Meredith that evening.
Rilla was singing upstairs as she put the baby to bed.