“Sure, it belonged there,” said Judy mysteriously. “Ye wudn’t have thim move it. And it was be way av being frindly as often as not. Eileen McDermott knew her man was alive, shipwrecked on a South Say island, whin iveryone else was sure for a whole winter that he was drowned. She saw him in the glass. And the McDermott av me own time saw a minuet danced in it one night and niver was inny the worse av it. And now I’m getting back to me kitchen. I’ve wasted enough time palavering wid ye.”

“Half the fun of making preparations for anything is in talking things over,” reflected Cuddles, giving the mirror a final whisk. It held no ghosts. But Cuddles felt secretly satisfied with what she saw in it.

CHAPTER 6

Eventually everything was in readiness. The table beautifully set…Pat made Cuddles take off the tablecloth three times before it was smooth enough to suit her…the house full of delicious odors, everybody dressed up except Judy.

“I’m not putting on me dress-up dress till me dinner is out of the way. I’m not wanting spots on it. Whin the last dish is washed I’ll slip up and put it on in time for supper. They’ll see me in all my grandeur thin. Yer table do be looking lovely, Patsy, but I’m thinking it wud look better if that cherry thing didn’t be sitting in the middle av it.”

“I thought it would please Tillytuck. He’s sensitive, you know. And if it is going to bring us bad luck it will anyhow, so what matter where it sits?”

“Sez she, laughing in her slave at the foolish ould woman. Oh, oh, we’ll be seeing, Patsy. Joe hasn’t come after all and I’ve me own opinion as to what previnted him.”

Pat looked about happily. Everything was just right. She must run and tie Sid’s necktie for him. She loved to do that…nobody else at Silver Bush could suit him. What matter if a cold rain were falling outside? Here it was snug and warm, the smiling rooms full of Christmas magic. Then the old brass knocker on the front door began to go tap-a-tap. The first guests had arrived…Uncle Brian and Aunt Jessie, who hadn’t been asked at all but had just decided to run down in the free and easy clan fashion and bring rich old Cousin Nicholas Gardiner from New Brunswick, who was visiting them and wanted to see his relatives at Silver Bush. Pat, as she let them in, cast one wild glance through the dining room door to see if three more places could be crowded into the table without spoiling it and knew they couldn’t. The Jerusalem cherry had begun its dire work.