Chapters (72)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- THE FIRST YEAR
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- THE SECOND YEAR
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- THE THIRD YEAR
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- THE FOURTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- THE FIFTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- THE SIXTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- THE SEVENTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- CHAPTER 43
- THE EIGHTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 44
- CHAPTER 45
- CHAPTER 46
- THE NINTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 47
- CHAPTER 48
- THE TENTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 49
- CHAPTER 50
- CHAPTER 51
- CHAPTER 52
- THE ELEVENTH YEAR
- CHAPTER 53
- CHAPTER 54
- CHAPTER 55
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“Trix Binnie says she doesn’t believe that Lady Gresham is any relation at all to us,” said Cuddles, picking up a yellow kitten, with a face like a golden pansy, that came skittering through the ferns, and tucking it under her chin.
“She wudn’t! But yer fourth cousin she is and it was her uncle the Bishop they did be blaming for staling the silver at the Bay Shore the night he slipt there.”
“Stealing the silver, Judy?” Pat had never heard of this though Judy had been recounting her family legends to her all her life.
“I’m telling ye. Ye know that illigant silver hair-brush and comb in the spare room at the Bay Shore, to say nothing av the liddle looking glass and the two scent bottles. That proud av it they was. They niver did be putting it out for common people but a Bishop was a Bishop and whin he wint up to bed there it was all spread out gorgeous like on the bury top. Oh, oh, but it wasn’t there the nixt morning, though. Yer Great-great-aunt Hannah was on the hoof thin…it was long afore she got bed-rid…and she was just about wild. She just set down and wrote and asked the Bishop what he’d done wid it. Back he wrote, ‘I am poor but honest. The silver is in the box av blankets. It was too luxurious for a humble praste like mesilf to use and I was afraid some av me medicine might fall on it.’ Oh, oh, the silver was on top av the blankets all right enough and yer poor Great-great-aunt was niver the same agin, after as much as accusing the Bishop av staling it. Patsy darlint, spaking av letters, was there inny news in the one ye got from Jingle this morning if a body may ask?”
“A very special bit of news,” said Pat. “I saved it to tell you this afternoon when we’d be out here. Hilary sent in the design for a window to some big competition…and it won the prize. Against a hundred and sixty competitors.”
“It’s the cliver lad Jingle is…and it’ll be the lucky girl that do be getting him.”
Pat ignored this. She didn’t want Hilary Gordon for anything but a friend but she did not exactly warm to the idea of that “lucky girl” whoever she was.
“Hilary always had a liking for windows. Whenever he saw one that stood out from the ordinary run he went into raptures over it. That little dormer one in old Mary McClenahan’s house…Judy, do you remember the time you sent us to her to witch McGinty back?”
“And she did, didn’t she now?”
“She knew where he was to be found anyhow,” Pat sighed. “Judy, life was really more fun when I believed she was a witch.”
“I’m telling ye.” Judy nodded her clipped gray head mysteriously. “The less ye do be belaving the colder life do be. This bush now…it was nicer whin it was packed full av fairies, wasn’t it?”