Aunt Mattie felt troubled. Of all the boys, Pat, she well knew, was the most difficult to understand, but during the years that her home had been with her sister, Mrs. Hervey, she had come to be like a second mother to the children, and Pat, every one said, was more manageable by 'Miss Mattie' than by any one else. And now he was as sulky and disagreeable to her as ever he had been to old nurse, whom he was always fighting with, or to any one.
'Pat,' she said suddenly, 'come over here. Hec, you and Ger can go back to your own corner,' for there was one specially counted 'the kids',' where the old toy cupboard stood, and where the elder ones were not allowed to interfere with them, on the principle that an Englishman's house is his castle, I suppose.
'Us diddun want to play with Jus and Pat,' said Ger, 'but they made us be "'orses."'
'Never mind,' said Hector, 'Aunt Mattie won't let us be teased any more. We was tidyin' the cupboard,' he went on; 'it wanted tidyin' awful bad.' Hec was that very uncommon thing, a neat little boy.
So Mrs. Mattie and her nephew were as good as alone.
'Pat,' she began again, 'why are you so surly to me?'
Pat got red and mumbled something about 'not meaning.'
'But you must mean the words you say,' said his aunt. 'It wasn't kind or nice to tell me you hated—or "didn't like"—girls, when I had brought my little niece to make friends with you all.'
Pat stood silent, but his face had softened a little.
'She'd not make friends with me,' he said,' nobody does. She can make friends with Jus and Archie. Besides, what does it matter—she's not going to live here.'