Explore "Rilla of Ingleside" by Lucy Maud Montgomery on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Warsaw has fallen," said Dr. Blythe with a resigned air, as he brought the mail in one warm August day.
Gertrude and Mrs. Blythe looked dismally at each other, and Rilla, who was feeding Jims a Morganized diet from a carefully sterilized spoon, laid the said spoon down on his tray, utterly regardless of germs, and said, "Oh, dear me," in as tragic a tone as if the news had come as a thunderbolt instead of being a foregone conclusion from the preceding week's dispatches. They had thought they were quite resigned to Warsaw's fall but now they knew they had, as always, hoped against hope.