“I’ll do my best,” she choked. “There’s a verse in the Bible somewhere…‘be of good courage’…I’ve always thought it a wonderful phrase. I suppose it was meant just for times like this. But oh, Rae, how can we live with May? Her habits…her ideals…her point of view about everything…are so different from ours.”

“She must have some good points,” said Rae reasonably. “She’s really popular in her own set. Everybody says she is a good worker.”

“We have no work for her to do here,” said Pat bitterly.

“You know, Pat, nothing is ever quite so dreadful in reality as in anticipation. We must just look around this. It’s blocking up our view at present because we are too close to it.”

“We can never be ourselves…our real selves…when she is about, Rae.”

“Perhaps not. But she won’t be always around. And she isn’t going to rule here whatever she may think. ‘I’m master here,’ said dad, at the end of our talk, ‘and your mother is mistress of Silver Bush and will remain so.’ So that’s that. I must be off to school now. You won’t have to face May this morning. Sid has taken her home for the day.”

Judy, who, for the first time in her life, had been a coward, crept in now and Pat flew to her old arms.

“Judy…Judy…help me to bear it.”

“Oh, oh, bearing is it? We’ll bear it together, Patsy darling, to the last turn av the screw, wid a grin for the honor av Silver Bush. And just be renumbering, Patsy, what the Good Book says…about happiness being inside av ye and not outside. Thim mayn’t just be the words but it’s what I’m belaving it manes.”

“All very well if things outside would stop poking at you,” said Pat, rather less forlornly.

“We’ve got to be saving Silver Bush from her,” said Judy slyly. “She’ll be trying to spile it while she do be here and we’ll have our liddle bit av fun heading her off, Patsy darlint…diplomatic-like and widout ructions for the honor av the fam’ly. Ye’d have had a laugh this morning if ye’d been down, Patsy, to see Bould-and-Bad turning his back on her, aven if she did be making a fuss over him. She’s rale fond av the animiles so we nadn’t worry over that.”

To Pat it was almost another count against May that she was fond of cats. She hated to admit a good point in her.

“How was Sid, Judy?”