Pat of Silver Bush (38 page)

“In a year or two it will shade the steps so nicely. Think of the moonlight falling through it on summer nights, dad.”

Dad shrugged and let her have her way. Everybody knew Pat couldn’t bear to have a tree cut down. No use having the child cry her golden-brown eyes out.

Over in the field of the Pool Sid was building an oat-stack. Sid, it was said, could build the best oat-stack in P.E. Island.

Pat looked after dad wistfully as he crossed the yard and went over to the field of the Pool. He did walk slower; he was more stooped. Yet how she hated to admit it.

“Is it any wonder? After those dreadful weeks when we didn’t know whether mother would live or die. And I don’t think he ever really got over Joe’s going.” Winnie sighed again. Pat looked keenly at her. Winnie had been very remote and dreamy for some days past. Pat suddenly remembered that she had not heard Winnie laughing … since when? Since the last night Frank Russell had been over. And he had not been over for a week.

It had been a suspected thing all through the year that Winnie and Frank would be married in the fall. All through the winter Judy had hooked rugs “like mad.” Pat did not warm to the thought but it had to be faced and accepted.

“Winnie, what is the trouble, darling?”

“There’s no trouble,” said Winnie impatiently. “Don’t be silly, Pat.”

“I’m not silly. You’ve been … funny … for a week. Have you quarrelled with your Frank?”

“No,” said Winnie slowly. Then her face went white and her eyes filled with tears. She MUST tell somebody and mother mustn’t be bothered now. Pat wasn’t old enough to understand, of course … Winnie still persisted in thinking of Pat as a mere child … but she was better than nobody at all.

“It’s only … he was a little angry when I told him we couldn’t be married this fall after all … perhaps not for years.”

“But … Winnie … WHY? I thought it was all settled.”

“So it was. Before mother took ill. But you know perfectly well, Pat, that everything is changed now. We simply have to look facts in the face. Mother may be spared to us for many years but she’ll always be an invalid. You will be teaching and Judy isn’t as young as she once was. She can’t do all the work that has to be done here, even with your help after school. And it would break her heart to get any one in to help her, even if dad could afford it, which he can’t. So I must give up all thoughts of being married just now. Of course Frank doesn’t like it, but he’ll just have to reconcile himself to it. If he doesn’t … well, there are plenty of other girls ready to keep house for him.”

In spite of herself Winnie’s voice faltered. The thought of all those willing girls was very bitter. And Frank had been very … difficult. The Russells did not like to be kept waiting. She knew he wouldn’t wait for years. And if he did … they would be old and tired and all the first blossom of life would be withered and scentless. Just like poor Sophie Wright. She and Gordon Dodds had waited for fifteen years until her paralysed father died; and Sophie had never seemed like a bride. Just a faded little woman who no longer cared greatly whether she was married or not. Yet Winnie did not falter in her decision. There was good stuff in the Silver Bush girls. They put duty first always, even in a world which was clamouring that the word was outmoded and the thing to do was to grab what you wanted when you wanted it and let everything else go hang.

For just a moment a wild thrill of joy swept over Pat. Winnie wouldn’t marry Frank after all. There wouldn’t be any more changes at Silver Bush. She and Winnie and Sid would just go on living there, taking care of father and mother, loving Silver Bush and each other, recking nothing of the changing world outside. It would be heavenly.

But Winnie’s eyes! They looked like blue violets that somebody had stepped on and bruised horribly.

Pat had never been able to understand how Winnie COULD love Frank as she did. Frank … if you didn’t hate him because he was stealing your sister … was a nice enough fellow, with a wholesome pink face and steady grey-blue eyes. But nothing romantic about him … no smart compliments, no Lara-like glooms … nothing to induce such a riot of feeling as Winnie evidently experienced whenever she heard his step at the door.

WHAT did Winnie see in him? Pat gave it up.

All the lawless joy died out of Pat when she saw Winnie’s eyes. It was simply ridiculous to think of Winnie’s eyes looking so … just ridiculous, that was all. And quite unnecessary. Because she, Pat, had everything nicely planned out already.

“Winnie, do you know you’re just talking nonsense? Of course you’re going to marry Frank. I am not going to take the school. I decided that as soon as mother came home. I’ll be here to help Judy.”

“Pat, you can’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair to ask you to give up your school after you studied so hard at Queen’s to get your licence … you OUGHT to have your chance …”

Pat laughed.

“My chance! That’s just it. I’ve got my chance … the chance I’ve been aching for. The chance to stay at Silver Bush and care for it. I’ve hated the thought of teaching school. Who knows even if I’d get on well in the home school? I might have to go away another year … and THAT … but we needn’t go into that. Of course I’d rather have mother well and strong than anything else even if I had to go to the ends of the earth. But since she can’t be … well, I have the consolation of knowing I can stay home anyhow.”

“What will dad say?”

“Dad knows. Why, Win, he was relieved. He never thought but that you’d be getting married and he didn’t know just how things could be managed here. Because he didn’t want me disappointed either in having to give up my school. DISAPPOINTED!” Pat howled again. “Win, parents aren’t the selfish creatures so many horrid stories make them out. They DON’T want their children to sacrifice and give up for them. They want them to be happy.”

“All but the cranks,” said Judy, who had brought her little spinning wheel out to the platform and thought herself at liberty to butt into any conversation. “There do always be a few cranks aven among parents. Oh, oh, but not among the Gardiners.”

“I think,” said Winnie in a rather unsteady tone, “if you don’t mind finishing the peas, Pat … I’ll go upstairs for a little while.”

Pat grinned. Winnie would go upstairs and write to Frank.

“Likely Winnie will be marrying Frank this fall, Judy,” Pat said with a gulp. It seemed to make a thing so irrevocable to SAY it.

“Oh, oh, and why not, the darlint? She can cook and she can sew. She can get along widout things. She do be knowing whin to laugh and whin not to. Oh, oh, she’s fit to be married. It do be eliven years since we had a wedding at Silver Bush. Sure and that’s a liddle bit too much like heaven, wid nather marrying nor giving in marriage.”

“George Nicholson is going to be married to Mary Baker,” announced Cuddles, who had wandered along with a little spotted barn cat she affected in her arms. “I wish he would wait till I grow up. I believe he would like me better than Mary because there is no fun in her. There’s a good deal in me when my conscience doesn’t bother me. O … h, look at Bold-and-Bad.”

Bold-and-Bad had met his match since Cuddles had been bringing the barn cat to the house. The barn cat was scrawny and ugly but she was taking impudence from nobody. Bold-and-Bad was ludicrously afraid of her. It was a sight of fun to see that whiffet of a cat attack and put to flight an animal who should have been able to demolish her with a blow of his paw. Bold-and-Bad fled over the yard and through the graveyard and across the Mince Pie field with yowls of terror.

“Look at Gintleman Tom enjoying av it,” chuckled Judy.

“We have nice cats at Silver Bush,” said Cuddles complacently. “Interesting cats. And they have an AIR. They walk so proud and hold their tails up. Other cats SLINK. Trix Binnie laughed when I said that and said, ‘You’re getting just as crazy as Pat over your old Silver Bush, thinking there’s nothing like it.’ ‘Well, there isn’t,’ I told her. And I was right, wasn’t I, Pat?”

“You were,” said Pat fervently. “But there comes your barn cat back and you’d best take her to the barn before dad sees her. You know he doesn’t want the barn cats encouraged to the house. He says he puts up with Gentleman Tom and Bold-and-Bad because they’re old established customs.”

“How old is Gentleman Tom, Judy?”

“Oh, oh, old, is it? The Good Man Above do be knowing that. All
I
do be knowing is that he come here twelve years ago, looking as old as he does this blessed minute. Maybe there isn’t inny age about him,” concluded Judy mysteriously. “Ye can’t iver be thinking av him as a kitten, can ye now?”

“I’m sure he could tell some queer tales, Judy. It’s a pity cats can’t talk.”

“Talk is it? Whoiver told ye they cudn’t talk, Cuddles darling? The grandfather of me heard two cats talking onct but he niver cud be got to tell what they said … No, no, he didn’t want to be getting in wrong wid the tribe. As I was telling Siddy last Sunday whin he was raving mad because Bold-and-Bad had gone to slape on his Sunday pants and they was kivered wid cat hairs, ‘Think whativer ye like av a cat, Siddy darlint,’ sez I to him, ‘but don’t be SAYING innything. If the King av the cats heard ye now!”

“And what would have happened if the King of the cats had heard him, Judy?”

“Oh, oh, let’s lave that tale for a rale wild stormy winter night, Cuddles, whin ye’re slaping wid old Judy snug and cosy. Thin I’ll be telling ye what happened to a man in ould Ireland that did be saying things av cats a liddle too loud and careless like. It’s no tale for a summer afternoon wid a widding looming up.”

Winnie was to be married in late September and Silver Bush settled down to six weeks of steady preparation. Judy had a new swing shelf put up in the cellar to fill with rows on rows of ruby jam-pots for Winnie. The wood-work in the Poet’s room was to be painted all over in robin’s egg blue and then there was the excitement of choosing paper to harmonise with it. Though Pat hated to tear the old paper off. It had been on so long. And she resented having the chairs in the Big Parlour recovered. There was a sort of harmony about the old room as it was. New things jarred. But Silver Bush must look its best, for Winnie was to have a big wedding.

“The clan do be liking a bit av a show,” said Judy delightedly.

“It means a great deal of work,” said Aunt Edith rather disapprovingly.

“Work, is it? Ye do be right. It’s busy as a hin wid one chick we all are. I do be kaping just one jump ahead. But I’m not liking yer sneaking widdings as if they was ashamed av it. We’ll be having one to be proud av, wid ivery relative on both sides and lots av prisents and two bridesmaids and a flower girl … Oh, oh, and Winnie’s trosso now! The like av it has niver been seen at Silver Bush. All her liddle undies made be hand. ‘An inch av hand-work do be worth a machine mile,’ sez I to Mrs. Binnie whin she do be saying her cousin’s daughter had two dozen av ivery kind. It do be a comfort to me whin I climb up to me loft at night, faling as if I’d been pulled through a kay-hole.”

“Oh, Judy, you and I are getting to be old women,” sighed Aunt Barbara.

Judy looked scandalised.

“Yes, yes, but whisht … don’t be spaking av it, woman dear,” she whispered apprehensively.

Winnie had a dream of a wedding dress … the sort of dress every girl would like to have. Everybody loved it except Aunt Edith, who was horrified at its brevity. Dresses were at their shortest when Winnie was married. Aunt Edith had been praying for years that women’s skirts might be longer but apparently in vain.

“It’s a condition that can’t be affected by prayer,” Uncle Tom told her gravely.

Winnie moved through all the bustle of preparation with a glory in her eyes, smiling dreamily over thoughts of her own. Frank haunted Silver Bush to such an extent that Judy was a trifle peeved at him.

“He do be all right in his place but I’m not liking him spread over everything,” she grumbled.

“Frank is devoted to Winnie,” said Pat rather distantly. “I think it is beautiful.” She had finally accepted Frank as one of the family and he had straightway become a person to be defended, even from Judy.

“I wonder how Frank proposed to Winnie,” remarked Cuddles, as she helped Pat adorn a cake with pale green slivers of angelica and crimson cherries. “I suppose he would be very romantic. Do you think he went on his knees?”

Sid, in for a drink of water, roared.

“We don’t do that nowadays, Cuds. Frank just said to Winnie, ‘How about it, kid?’ I heard him,” Sid salved his conscience by winking at Judy behind Cuddles’ back.

“When I grow up and anybody proposes to me he’ll have to be a good deal more flowery and eloquent than that. I can tell you, if he wants me to listen to him,” she said.

“The frog went a-courting,” remarked Judy cryptically.

Winnie’s Wedding

The engagement was announced in the papers … a new-fangled notion which met with Judy’s disapproval.

“Oh, oh, there do be minny a slip ‘twixt the cup and the lip,” she muttered. “Sure and we’d be in the pretty scrape if innything but good happened Frank in the nixt three wakes. There was Maggie Nicholson now … her beau did be going clane out av his head a wake before the day itsilf and it’s in the asylum he’s been iver since. Wudn’t thim Binnies have the laugh on us if the widding didn’t come off after all.”

Only three weeks to the wedding day … Winnie’s wedding day when she would leave Silver Bush forever. There were moments when Pat felt she couldn’t endure it. When Vernon Gardiner said jokingly to Winnie,

“Next time we meet I’ll have to call you Mrs. Russell,” Pat went upstairs and cried. To think of Winnie being Mrs. Russell. It sounded so terribly changed and different and far away. Her Winnie!

Tears didn’t stop the days from flying by. The wedding was to be in the church. Pat wanted Winnie to be married at home under the copper beech on the lawn. Mother couldn’t go to the church. But Frank wanted the church. The Russells were Anglicans and had always been married in church. Frank got his way … “of course,” as Pat scornfully remarked to the air.

Pat and Judy were up to their eyes in baking and favourite recipes were hunted up … recipes that had not been used for years because they took so many eggs. The traditional Silver Bush bride-cake alone required three dozen.