“And him the liveliest dancer on the Island forty years ago,” marveled Judy.

“He’s reformed since then…and the reformed ones are generally the stiffest. Anyhow, all of you do your best to keep things moving smoothly. I don’t want Horace to go away thinking things not lawful to be uttered of my household.”

Pat and Rae promised, and then forgot all about him in the excitement of the party preparations. Hundreds of last minute things to do. Cream to be whipped…floors and furniture to be polished…at the very last an extra cake to be made because Pat was afraid they mightn’t have enough. Judy declared that the queen’s pantry couldn’t be better stocked but gave in when Pat insisted.

“Oh, oh, ye do be the mistress here,” she said with a touch of grandeur. Pat made an old-fashioned jelly roll that would cut into golden coils with ruby jelly between them. A pretty cake…just as pretty as any new-fangled thing. Where on earth was Rae? Prinking in her room of course…fussing over her hair. And so much yet to be seen to! Pat had always been conscious of a sneaking sympathy with Martha. But she was very happy. Silver Bush looked beautiful. She loved the shining surfaces…the flowers in bowls all over the house…the glitter of glass and silver in the dining-room…everything in the best Gardiner tradition. Sid had strung Chinese lanterns on the trees all around the platform and Tillytuck was to be fiddler, with old Matt Corcoran from the Bridge to spell him. The day of gold would be followed by a night of silver, for the weather was behaving perfectly. And at dusk, pretty girls and girls not so pretty were gazing into mirrors all over the two Glens and Silverbridge and Bay Shore. Judy, with groans that could not be uttered, was donning her wine-hued dress and Tillytuck was struggling into a white collar in the granary loft. Even the cats were giving their flanks a few extra licks. For the party at Silver Bush was easily the event of the season.

Pat, hurrying into a frock of daffodil chiffon, fluffed out her dark-brown cloud of hair and looked in her mirror with pleasure. She was feeling a trifle tired but her reflection heartened her up wonderfully. She had forgotten that she was really rather pretty. “Nae beauty” of course…Pat had never forgotten Great-great-Aunt Hannah’s dictum…but quite pleasant to look upon.

And Rae, in her dress of delphinium blue, was a dream.

“Blue is really the loveliest color in the world,” thought Pat. “I’m sorry I can never wear it.”