Lucy Montgomery - Pat of Silver Bush

"Sure I do be knowing thim all. Conways AND Branchleys. His mother used to visit here before ould Conway made his pile. She was rale humble thin. Minny's the time I've wiped yer Lester's liddle nose for him whin he was knee high to a toad. Howsomiver," concluded Judy loftily, "it's likely the matter is too high for me. Money makes the mare go and it's the cute one ye are, I'm thinking."

Judy was really impossible. To insinuate that she, Patricia Gardiner, had picked out Lester Conway because he had money.

"She should know me better," thought Pat indignantly.

But she felt the lack of Judy. If darling Bets were only alive! She would have understood. What a comfort it would have been to talk over her problems with Bets. For there WERE problems. For instance, Lester had told her she was to marry him right away as soon as college closed. There was no sense in waiting. He was going right into business with his dad.

This was simply ridiculous. Of course, some day ... but she wasn't going to even think of getting married for years yet. She must teach school and help them at home ... reshingle and repaint Silver Bush ... get a hardwood floor in the dining-room ... a brass knocker for the front door ... pay for Cuddles' music lessons.

Lester just laughed at this the night of the Saturday Satellites' Easter dance.

"You are too lovely, Pat, to be wasted any longer on a shabby, obscure old farm like Silver Bush," he said.

A little madness came over Pat. The very soul of her was aflame.

"Don't ever speak to me again, Lester Conway," she said, each word falling like a tinkling drop of icy water on a cold stone.

"Why, what have I done?" said Lester in genuine amazement.

That made it worse, if anything could make it worse. He didn't realise at all what he had done. Pat turned her back on him and flew upstairs. To get her wraps was the work of a minute ... to slip down the back-stairs and through the side-hall, another minute. Then out ... and back to Linden Avenue. The bite and tang of the cold air seemed to increase her anger. Patricia Gardiner of Silver Bush had never in all her life been so furious.

Lester came down the next evening, looking more Lara-like than ever. He ignored the incident ... he thought that would be the best policy ... and told her she was going with him to the Easter Prom.

"Thank you, I'm not," said Pat, "and please don't waste any more of those charming scowls on me. When I tell anybody I'm through with him I'm THROUGH."

When Pat said anything in a certain way she was believed.

"Of all the fickle girls," said Lester. Just like Harris. Men were so tiresomely alike.

"I was born in moonlight, they tell me," said Pat coolly. "So I'm naturally changeable. No one can insult Silver Bush in my hearing. And I'm tired ... very tired ... of taking orders from you."

The Conway temper ... Judy could have told you a few things about IT ... flared up.

"Oh ... well ... if you're going off the deep end about it!" he said nastily. "Anyway, I just began going about with you to put a spoke in Hilary Gordon's wheel."

She was glad he had said that. He had set her free. She had been hating him so bitterly that her hate had made her as much of a prisoner as love had. Now he had simply ceased to exist.

"I've heard Judy use a phrase," said Pat to herself after he had flung away, scowling for once in real earnest, "'fancy's fool.' Well, I've been fancy's fool. And that is that."

It was a good while before she could talk the whole thing over with Judy. NOW Judy sympathised and understood.

"Oh, oh, Patsy dear, I niver did be liking yer taking up wid a Conway, not aven if his pockets were lined wid gold. Gintleman Tom didn't like him ... there was something in that cat's eye whiniver he saw him. And he was always a bit too lordly for me taste, Patsy. A man shud be a bit humble like whin he's courting for if he isn't whin will he be? I'm asking ye."

"I can never forgive him for making fun of Silver Bush, Judy."

"Making fun av Silver Bush, was he? Oh, oh, if ye'd seen the liddle shack his father was raised in, wid the stove-pipe sticking out av its roof. Sure and the Conways were the scrapings av the pot in thim days. And the timper av the ould man. One time he wasn't after liking the colour av a new petticoat his wife did be buying ... it was grane whin he wanted purple. He did be taking it up to the attic av his grand house in Summerside and firing it out av the windy. It caught on the top av a big popple at the back av the house and there it did be hanging all the rist av the summer. Whin the wind filled it out 'twas a proper sight now. The folks did be calling it the Conway flag. Ould Conway cudn't get it down bekase the popple was ralely in Ned Orley's lot and Ned and him were bad frinds and Ned wudn't be letting inny one get at the tree. He said he was a better Irishman than ould Conway and liked a bit av rale Paddy grane in his landscape."

"Lester admits his father was a self-made man, Judy."

"Oh, oh, that wud be a very pretty story if it was the true one. Ould Conway didn't be making himsilf. The Good Man Above attinded to that. And he made his pile out av a grane and feed store. But I'm saying for him he wasn't skim milk ... like his brother Jim. HE was the miser, now. 'Take out the lamp,' sez he whin he was dying. 'A candle do be good enough to die by.' Oh, oh, there do be some quare people in the world," conceded Judy. "As for me poor Lester, they tell me he's rale down-hearted now that his temper fit do be over. I'm afraid it's ye that do be the deluthering cratur, Patsy. He did be thinking ye were rale fond av him."

"Of course I admit I was a perfect idiot, Judy. But I'm cured. I'll never fall in love again ... if I can help it," she added candidly.

"Oh, oh, why not, me jewel?" laughed Judy. "As yer Aunt Hazel used to say it's a bit av fun in a dull life. Only don't be carrying it too far and breaking hearts, aven av the Conways. There do be big difference atween falling in love and loving, Patsy."

"How do you know all this, Judy? Were YOU ever in love?" said Pat impudently.

Judy chuckled.

"One can be larning a lot be observation," she remarked.

"But, Judy, how can one TELL the difference between loving and being in love?"

"It do be taking some experience," acknowledged Judy.

Pat burned Poems of Passion but when she came across the line ... "spilt water from a broken shard," in one of Carman's poems she underlined it. That was all love really was, anyway.

She went to the Easter Prom with Hilary.

"Poor Jingle!" said Judy to Gentleman Tom. "That does be TWICET. If she gets over the third time ..."

"Let us see the handsome houses where the wealthy nobles dwell," quoted Hilary. "In other words let us take a stroll along Abegweit Avenue. There's one of the new houses there I want to show you. I won't tell you which one it is ... I want you to guess it. If you're the lass I take you to be, Pat, you'll spot it at sight."

It was a Saturday afternoon in spring with sudden-sweeping April winds. The world seemed so friendly on a day like this, Pat thought. She wore her crimson jersey and tam and knew she looked well in them and that Lester Conway, scowling by in his roadster, knew it, too. But let Lester scowl on. Hilary's quizzical smile was much pleasanter in a companion and Hilary looked brown and wholesome in the spring sunshine. Not much like the ragged little lad who had met her on that dark, lonely road of long ago. But the same at heart. Dear old Hilary! Faithful, dependable Hilary. Such a friend was better than a thousand of Judy's "beaus."

They had not gone home for this week-end, since the Satellites were having a wind-up jamboree that night. Pat could by now survive staying a week-end in town. Yet she felt that she always missed something when she did. Today, for instance, the wild violets would be out in Happiness ... the white ones ... and they not there to find them.