"I'm sorry ... terribly sorry ... and bitterly disappointed. But it was just one of the things that had to be."
"It's nice to be able to lay the blame of everything on predestination," said Pat ruefully. "I feel I've failed you ... and David ... and I'm ever so fond of him ..."
"That might be enough for some men, but not David," said Suzanne quietly. "I wish it could have been different, Pat dear ... but it can't be, so we must just put it behind us and go on."
When Suzanne was married and David had gone the Long House was closed and lightless once more. Again it was the Long Lonely House. Some houses are like that ... they have a doom on them which they can never long escape.
Pat took stock of things. She was at peace. Her whole world had been temporarily wrecked ... ruined ... turned upside down, but nothing had really changed in Silver Bush. There was no longer anything to come between her and it ... never would be again. She was through with love and all its counterfeits. Henceforth Silver Bush would have no rival in her heart. She could live for it alone. There might be some hours of loneliness. But there was something wonderful even in loneliness. At least you belonged to yourself when you were lonely.
Pat flung back her brown head and her brown eyes kindled.
"Freedom is a glad thing," she said.
3
One smoky October evening they found Judy lying unconscious in the stable beside the old white cow. She had not been allowed to do any milking for a long time but she had slipped out in the dim to do it that night, since May was away and she knew "the min" would be tired when they came home from the other place.
They carried her to her bed in the kitchen chamber and sent for Dr. Bentley. Under his ministrations she recovered consciousness but he looked very grave when he came down to the kitchen.
"Her heart is in a very bad condition. I can't understand how she kept up so long."
"Judy hasn't felt well all summer," said Pat heavily. "I've known it ... though she wouldn't give in that there was anything the matter with her or let me call you. 'Can he be curing old age?' she would say. I know I should have insisted ... I knew she was old but I think I never realised it ... never believed Judy COULD be ill ..."
"It wouldn't have mattered. I could have done nothing," said Dr. Bentley. "It's only a question of a week or two."
Pat hated him for his casualness. To him Judy was nothing but an old, worn-out servant. When he had gone she went up to the kitchen chamber where Judy was lying. Pale rays slanted through the clouds above the silver bush and gleamed athwart all Judy's little treasured possessions.
Judy turned her dim old eyes lovingly on Pat's face.
"Don't be faling down, Patsy darlint. I've been sure iver since Gintleman Tom wint away that me own time wasn't far off. And of late I've been faling it drawing nigh just as ye fale snow in the air before it comes. Oh, oh, I'm glad I won't be a bother to inny one long or make inny one much trouble dying."
"Judy ... Judy ..."
"Oh, oh, I'm knowing ye wudn't think innything ye cud do for ould Judy a trouble, darlint. But I've always asked the Good Man Above that I wudn't be bed-rid long whin me time came and I've always been hoping I cud die at Silver Bush. It's been me home for long, long years. I've had a happy life here, Patsy, and now death seems rale frindly."
Pat wondered how many people would think that Judy had had a happy life ... a life spent in what they would think the monotonous drudgery of service on a little farm. Ah well, "the kingdom of heaven is within you," Pat knew Judy had been happy ... that she asked for nothing but that people should turn to her for help ... should "want" her. Nothing so dreadful could happen to Judy as not to be wanted.
But was it ... could it be ... Judy who was talking so calmly of dying? Judy!
Dr. Bentley had given Judy two weeks but she lived for four. She was very happy and contented. Life, she felt, was ending beautifully for her, here where her heart had always been. There would be no going away from Silver Bush ... no long lingering in uselessness until people came in time to hate her because she was so helpless and in their way. Everything was just as she would have wished it.
Pat was her constant attendant. May would have nothing to do with waiting on her ... "I hate sick people," she announced airily ... but nobody wanted her to.
"Oh, oh, it's rale nice to be looked after," Judy told Pat with her old smile.
"You've looked after us all long enough, Judy. It's your turn to be waited on now."
"Patsy darlint, if I cud just be having you and nobody else to do for me!"
"I'm with you to the last, dearest Judy."
"I'm knowing ye'll come as far as ye can wid me but ye mustn't be tiring yersilf out, Patsy."
"It doesn't tire me. I'm just going to do nothing for a while but look after you. May is doing the work ... to give her her due, Judy, she isn't lazy."
"Oh, oh, but she'll never have the luck wid the young turkeys that I've had," said Judy in a tone of satisfaction.
Bold-and-Bad seldom left Judy. He curled up on the bed beside her where she could stroke him if she wanted to and always purred when she did so. "Looking at me wid his big round eyes, Patsy, as much as to say, 'I cud spare a life or two, Judy, if ye wanted one.' Sure and he's far better company than inny av the Binnies," she added with a grin. Mrs. Binnie thought it her duty to "sit by" Judy frequently and Judy endured it courteously. She wasn't going to forget her pretty manners even on her dying bed. But she always sighed with relief when Mrs. Binnie trundled downstairs.
Yes, it was pleasant to lie easily and think over old days and jokes and triumphs ... all the tears and joys of forgotten years ... all the pain and beauty of life. "Oh, oh, we've had our frolics," she would think with a little chuckle. Nothing worried her any more.
Pat always sat and talked with her in "the dim." Sometimes Judy seemed so well and natural that wild hopes would spring up in Pat's heart.
"I've been minding mesilf a bit av the ould days, Patsy. It's me way av passing the time. De ye be rimimbering the night yer Aunt Edith caught ye dancing naked in Silver Bush and they sint ye to Coventry? And the time Long Alec shaved his moustache off and bruk yer liddle heart? And the night Pepper fell into the well? Do ye be rimimbering whin liddle Jingle and his dog wud be hanging round? There was something in his face I always did be liking. He had a way wid him. And how ye did be hating to hear him called yer beau! 'That isn't a beau,' sez she, indignant, 'That was just Jingle.' And the two av ye slipping in to ask me for a handful av raisins. Oh, oh, thim was the good ould days. But I'm thinking these days be good, too. There do be always new good coming up to take the place av the old that goes, Patsy. There's liddle Mary now ... she was here this afternoon wid her liddle buttercup head shining like a star in me ould room, and her liddle tongue going nineteen to the dozen. The questions she do be asking. 'Isn't there inny Mrs. God, Judy?' And whin I sez 'no' she did just be looking a look at me, and sez she solemn-like, 'Then is God an ould bachelor, Judy?' Sure and maybe I shudn't have laughed, Patsy, but the darlint wasn't maning inny irriverince and ye'll be knowing I niver cud miss a joke. I'm thinking God himsilf wud have laughed at the face av her. He must be liking a bit av fun, too, Patsy, whin he made us so fond av it. I've been having a long life, Patsy, and minny things to be thankful for but for nothing more than me liddle gift av seeing something to laugh at in almost iverything. And that do be minding me ... whin Dr. Bentley was here today he did be taking me timperature and I did be thinking av the scare yer Aunt Hazel did be giving us once. She had a rale bad spell av flu and yer Aunt Edith was bound to take her timperature wid her funny liddle thermometer. It didn't suit yer Aunt Hazel to be fussed over so whiniver me fine Edith's back was turned Hazel whips the thermometer out av her mouth and sticks it in her hot cup av tay. Whin she heard Edith coming back she sticks it in her mouth again. And poor Edith just about died av fright whin she looked at it and saw what it rigistered. She flew downstairs and sint Long Alec for the doctor at the rate av no man's business, being sure Hazel had pewmonia wid a timperature like that. Oh, oh, but we had the laugh on her whin the truth come out. Niver cud ye be saying 'timperature' to Edith agin, poor soul. Her and me niver were be way av being cronies but I'll niver deny she had the bist blood av P. E. Island in her veins."