Mistress Pat by L. M. Montgomery

do be thinking. Mrs. Binnie says we throw out more wid a spoon than the min can bring in wid a shovel…Binnie-like. Our min like the good living. And what if we don’t be having too much money, Patsy dear? Sure and we have lashings av things no money cud be buying. There’ll be enough squazed out for Cuddles whin the time comes, niver fear. The Good Man Above will be seeing to that.”
    The drone of the separator came up from the yard below where Tillytuck was operating under the big maple over the well and singing a Psalm sonorously, with McGinty and some cats for an audience. It struck Pat that Tillytuck had a remarkably good voice. And he was setting the saucer for the fairies, just as Judy always did.
    â€œI used to think the fairies really came and drank it. I wish I could believe things like that now, Judy.”
    â€œIt do be fun belaving things. I often wonder, Patsy dear, at all the skiptics do be losing. As for the saucer av milk, the dog McGinty gets it now mostly. Look at him sitting there and thumping his bit av a tail ivery time Tillytuck gets to the end av a verse. He may not be having inny great ear for music but he do be knowing how to get round Tillytuck.”
    â€œJudy, I’m almost sure dear little dogs like McGinty must have souls.”
    â€œA liddle bit av one mebbe,” said Judy cautiously. “I niver cud hould wid the verse ‘widout are dogs,’ Patsy dear, though niver be telling the minister or Tillytuck I said it. Whiniver I see the dog McGinty I think av Jingle. Wasn’t it a letter from him ye got to-day? And is there inny word av him coming home this summer?”
    â€œNo,” Pat sighed. She had been hoping Hilary would come. “He has to work in vacation, Judy.”
    â€œI s’pose his mother doesn’t be thinking inny more about him than she iver did?”
    â€œI don’t know. He never mentions her name now. Of course she is quite willing to send him all the money he needs…but he’s terribly independent, Judy. He is determined to earn all he can for himself. And as for coming home…well, you know, since his uncle died and his aunt went to town he really has no home to come back to. Of course I’ve told him a dozen times he is to look upon Silver Bush as home. Do you remember how I used to set a light in this very window when I wanted him to come over?”
    â€œAnd he niver failed to come, did he, Patsy? I’m almost belaving if ye set a light in this windy tonight he’d see it and come. Patsy dear,”…Judy’s voice grew wheedling and confidential…“do ye iver be thinking a bit about Jingle…ye know.”
    Pat laughed, her amber eyes full of roguish mirth.
    â€œJudy darling, you’ve always had great hopes of making a match between Hilary and me but they’re doomed to disappointment. Hilary and I are chums but we’ll never be anything else. We’re too good chums to be anything else.”
    â€œYe seem so set on turning ivery one else down,” sighed Judy. “And I always did be liking Jingle. It’s not a bad thing to be chums wid yer husband, I’m tould.”
    â€œ Why are you so set on my having a ‘real’ beau, Judy? Any one would think you wanted to get rid of me.”
    â€œIt’s better ye’re knowing than that, me jewel. Whin ye lave Silver Bush the light av ould Judy Plum’s eyes will go wid ye.”
    â€œThen just be glad I mean to stay, Judy. I never want to leave Silver Bush…I want to stay here always and grow old with my cats and dogs. I love the very walls of it. Look, Judy, the Virginia creeper has got to the roof. It’s lucky we have so many vines here, for the house does need painting terribly and dad says he can’t afford it this year.”
    â€œYer Uncle Tom is painting Swallyfield…white, wid grane trimmings, it’s to be. He started today.”
    â€œYes.” A shadow fell