i 75f9a7096d34cea0 by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page B

woodland with the wee folk.`
    `Hello, Auntie Pattie,` said Patrick.
    Margaret was snivelling now. `He fell on me.`
    `Where's your mother?`
    `She's up in bed,` said Patrick; `she's got a bad belly. Annie and Catherine are with her and wee Michael's in the kitchen with Maggie Ann. He's got the gripes.`
    Pattie nodded down at Patrick. He was certainly one for giving you details, was Patrick. He could have been bred of Maggie Ann herself.
    `Where's your father?`
    `Don't know,` said Patrick.
    `He's out,` said Margaret.
    Sean now put in quietly, `He's riding
    his horse.`
    `Well, get out of the road, all of you, and go and tell Maggie Ann to make me a cup of tea.`
    Patrick and Margaret ran off to do her bidding but Sean remained where he was, standing looking at her, his clear grey eyes wide: `You going away, Auntie Pattie?` he asked quietly.
    `Why do you ask, Sean?`
    Ì don't know.`
    `Has somebody said something to you?`
    `No. No, Auntie Pattie.`
    `Well, yes, I am going away, Sean.`
    Ì'm sorry, Auntie Pattie.`
    Ì'm not; except, perhaps, I'll miss you.`
    Ànd I'll miss you, Auntie Pattie.`
    Pattie looked down into the round face with the thick fair hair tumbling about it and she wondered, as she had done many times before, how it was she could speak to this boy as if he were an adult? Perhaps it was that he talked as if he were an
    adult. There had always been something 67 strange about Sean. He wasn't like the rest of them. He stood out, not only because he was fair, but for that something else you couldn't put a name to. She only knew that she had no time for the rest of Moira's brood; yet, even so, in a strange way she had come to like her stepmother, although perhaps pity was a more apt word than like. Yet, as her John had said in a wise way, pity was a stepping stone to love. Well, she couldn't say she loved Moira, but she had a feeling for her and it had grown with the years, as the feeling against her father had grown too.
    She touched Sean gently on the cheek with her finger, then went up the stairs and, knocking on Moira's bedroom door, entered the room.
    Moira was lying against a pile of pillows, cradling the ten-month-old Michael in one arm and steadying the bouncing Catherine with her other hand.
    Pattie walked up to the bedside, saying, `You not feeling too good, Moira?`
    `Well, Pattie, in all truth there are days when I've felt brighter.`
    Ìs it a cold?`
    `No. I think it's just laziness.` She
    smiled.
    `Yes, yes, I've no doubt about that,` said Pattie. `They say it is the Irish disease, but I've thought for a long time that you didn't suffer from it. Laziness indeed! Now, if it was Maggie Ann ...`
    Òh, Maggie Ann's all right. It's the weight she has to carry. You know, as I think I've told you before, Pattie, it isn't fat that's blown her out, it's water, and she'll die of it in the end. But what brings you here this morning?`
    Pattie sat on the edge of the bed and, putting her hand out, she touched the baby's foot as she said, Ì've come to tell my father I'm getting married.`
    `Married?` Moira jerked herself up in bed. `To that nice man, of course, the teacher?`
    `Yes, to that nice man, the teacher.`
    `When is it to be?`
    `Next week.`
    Moira's face stretched; the child almost slipped from her arm; then she grabbed it to her breast, repeating on a high note, `Next week? But ... but how can you manage that?`
    `By special licence. It's all
    arranged.` 69
    Èeh! my goodness.` Moira lay back against the pillows shaking her head. `He won't like that.`
    `Like it or not, he can't do anything about it. Anyway, I think he'll be glad to be rid of me: I've always been a thorn in his flesh. But there's one thing sure, he won't give me a dowry.` She smiled now.
    `You're no thorn in his flesh. And I've got to say to you, Pattie, that you've been a comfort to me, although I didn't think so the first time I entered this house, nor for weeks after. But then I began to understand you: you missed your mother like I did mine. Oh