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Back Mistress Pat Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. THE FIRST YEAR
  6. CHAPTER 1
  7. CHAPTER 2
  8. CHAPTER 3
  9. CHAPTER 4
  10. CHAPTER 5
  11. CHAPTER 6
  12. CHAPTER 7
  13. CHAPTER 8
  14. CHAPTER 9
  15. CHAPTER 10
  16. CHAPTER 11
  17. CHAPTER 12
  18. THE SECOND YEAR
  19. CHAPTER 13
  20. CHAPTER 14
  21. CHAPTER 15
  22. CHAPTER 16
  23. CHAPTER 17
  24. CHAPTER 18
  25. CHAPTER 19
  26. CHAPTER 20
  27. CHAPTER 21
  28. CHAPTER 22
  29. THE THIRD YEAR
  30. CHAPTER 23
  31. CHAPTER 24
  32. CHAPTER 25
  33. CHAPTER 26
  34. THE FOURTH YEAR
  35. CHAPTER 27
  36. CHAPTER 28
  37. CHAPTER 29
  38. CHAPTER 30
  39. CHAPTER 31
  40. CHAPTER 32
  41. THE FIFTH YEAR
  42. CHAPTER 33
  43. CHAPTER 34
  44. THE SIXTH YEAR
  45. CHAPTER 35
  46. CHAPTER 36
  47. CHAPTER 37
  48. THE SEVENTH YEAR
  49. CHAPTER 38
  50. CHAPTER 39
  51. CHAPTER 40
  52. CHAPTER 41
  53. CHAPTER 42
  54. CHAPTER 43
  55. THE EIGHTH YEAR
  56. CHAPTER 44
  57. CHAPTER 45
  58. CHAPTER 46
  59. THE NINTH YEAR
  60. CHAPTER 47
  61. CHAPTER 48
  62. THE TENTH YEAR
  63. CHAPTER 49
  64. CHAPTER 50
  65. CHAPTER 51
  66. CHAPTER 52
  67. THE ELEVENTH YEAR
  68. CHAPTER 53
  69. CHAPTER 54
  70. CHAPTER 55
  71. About the Author
  72. Back Cover

“Silver Bush was his rival, I’ll admit. But Hilary…he might as well call Sid a rival.”

Yet her face had changed subtly. Some of the laughter went out of it. She was wondering why there was such a distinct relief in the thought that, since her correspondence with Hilary seemed to have died a natural death, she would not have to write him that she was going to marry David Kirk.

THE EIGHTH YEAR

CHAPTER 44

It rained Thursday and Friday and then for a change, as Tillytuck said, it rained Saturday. Not the romping, rollicking, laughter-filled rain of spring but the sad, hopeless rain of autumn that seemed like the tears of old sorrows on the window-panes of Silver Bush.

“I love some kinds of rain,” said Rae, “but not this kind. Doesn’t the garden look forlorn? Nothing but the ghosts of flowers left in it…and such unkempt ghosts at that. And we had such good times all summer working in that garden, hadn’t we, Pat? I wonder if it will be the same next summer? I’ve a nasty, going-to-happeny feeling this morning that I don’t like.”

Judy, too, had had some kind of a “sign” in the night and was pessimistic. But nobody at first sight connected these forewarnings with the tall, thin lady who drove up the lane late in the afternoon and tied a spiritless gray nag to the paling of the graveyard.

“One more av thim agents,” said Judy, watching her from the kitchen window, as she stalked up the wet walk, a suitcase dangling from the end of one of her long arms. “Sure and I’ve been pestered wid half a dozen of thim this wake. She don’t be looking as if business was inny too prosperous.”

“She looks like an angleworm on end,” giggled Rae.

“I wouldn’t let her in if I was you,” said Mrs. Binnie, who seldom let a Saturday afternoon pass without a call at Silver Bush.

Judy had had some such idea herself but that speech of Mrs. Binnie’s banished it.

“Oh, oh, we do be more mannerly than that at Silver Bush,” she said loftily, and invited the stranger in cordially, offering her a chair near the fire. No Binnie was going to tell Judy who was to be let in or out of her kitchen!