Author's Note: Okay, I know the last chapter was slow, but I had trouble getting my creative juices going. I think I'm ok now though, so we'll try this again.

Disclaimer: I don't own any L.M. Montgomery characters.

It was late afternoon before Hilary and Long Alec were allowed in the house again. The Bay Shore farm had never looked lovelier. All the decorations were done, except for those decreed to high or too heavy for the ladies to handle. After a small, but filling, supper of sandwiches, Long Alec, Hilary, and Sid, who had arrived earlier, sans May, began the remaining projects. As they were struggling with a bunting that was being almost as difficult as Aunt Barbara, who insisted it be pinned in the corner, there was a knock on the door. Pat opened it to reveal Joe, Enid, and their son, Daniel. The little family was greeted warmly and hustled off to a spare bedroom for their overnight stay. Soon afterwards, Winnie, who had gone home earlier for a nap ordered by Pat and Mother, arrived with Frank and the children. After that, people began to come in a steady stream. Some would stay overnight at the Bay Shore, some stopped on their way to Swallowfield, and some lived nearby but had just come for a last minute visit before the wedding.

The Bay Shore farm was soon overrun and Hilary and Pat, anxious to have some peace and quiet, slipped out unnoticed. They jumped in the car and headed for the place that was once Silver Bush. Once there, they spoke not a word. The silence was too golden. Pat felt her tensions literally melt away as they sat by Jordan and Hilary took her hand in his, stroking it softly.

It was nice, Pat thought, being here with Hilary. Again she marveled at what a little goose she'd been for all these years. Wasted years, she thought, but she realized she wouldn't really trade them. Now was what mattered. Now she was with Hilary, which had been her rightful place all along, and the future looked very bright indeed. She sighed contentedly and, leaning over, put her head on his shoulder.

Hilary put his arm around Pat and silently repeated the same prayer of thanks he had said since the day she had accepted his proposal. It seemed impossible to him that his long-time dream was finally coming true. Even now, he was afraid he would wake up in his old apartment in Vancouver, only to find he was dreaming again. So real were his fears that he tightened his arm around Pat a little. She moved closer and he was reassured that he was not dreaming at all.

They sat for a few minutes in silence before Hilary had the sudden urge to explore all their old haunts one last time. The sun was disappearing behind the Hill of the Mist as the two made their rounds, even going up to the Long House for a few minutes. The new occupants were absent and Pat felt comfortable sitting in the circle of trees her beloved Bets had planted. Hilary was respectful of the ghosts that resided here. He, too, had loved Bets. Who hadn't?

When Pat felt they had been there long enough, they began the walk back down the hill. Hilary suggested reluctantly that they should head back to the Bay Shore and Pat agreed with him just as reluctantly. Halfway back to the car, however, she was overwhelmed by a sudden need to visit the graveyard. To visit Judy. And she must do it alone. Hilary needed no explanation. He continued towards the car, promising Pat needlessly that he would wait for her.

Pat nearly ran back to the graveyard. Why was she in such a hurry? Why was this suddenly so important? She slowed down reverently as she drew nearer and lingered around a few of the graves. Weeping Willie, Wild Dick, even dear little Snicklefritz. But at Judy's slab she stopped completely and was overcome again with emptiness at the sight of it. She knelt on the ground and couldn't stop the tears that sprang from her eyes.

"Oh, Judy," she whispered. "Judy, I wish you could be here to see this. You always longed for it so."

Pat bowed her head as the tears poured forth. She was quite unable to control them by now. But a voice brought her up short.

"Sure, and didn't I always be knowin' it would happen, me jewel?"

Pat looked up in amazement and then rubbed her eyes. It couldn't be! Could it? There was Judy, sitting on Weeping Willy's tombstone, sewing a bit of beautiful silvery lace onto a small white garment.

"Judy? Judy, is that you?"

"Oh, the questions ye do be askin', Patsy, dear. Sure, 'tis me."

"But, you're dead, Judy," said Pat cautiously. If this was a ghost, she certainly didn't want to rile it.

"Oh, oh, dead, is it? Sure, you spake the truth, darlint. But I was falin' a bit homesick and thought I'd be after payin' ye a visit. Don't go thinkin' I'll make a habit of this, now. It's frowned upon somewhat, and I don't be wantin' to upset anybody."

Pat felt very odd, indeed.

"This is ridiculous," she said out loud. "I'm going to see Hilary right away."

But as she turned to go, she knew she couldn't. What if this was real? She hesitated before she turned back around, fully expecting no one to be there. But, no, there Judy sat, still sewing away. Pat gave in and sat down on the ground in front of her.

"I knew ye'd be able to hear me, Patsy. Of course this do be all in your fancy, but what's wrong with that?."

Pat did not reply. She knew this was all in her imagination, but it was too delicious to let go of it. To hear that voice again! What a wonderful sensation. She succumbed and began a conversation.

"What is that you're sewing, Judy?"

"Nothin' of importance, Patsy. I didn't come here to talk av me. Tell me about you."

"Judy, the most wonderful thing happened. I'm marrying Hilary. Just as you always wanted."

"I've been after watching ye these few months, Patsy. Ye seem far happier than aven I can remember. I'm glad for ye. And for Jingle. Poor boy-o. Ye bruk his heart far too much, me jewel."

Pat nodded.

"Yes, but he still loves me. I feel unworthy of such a love, Judy."

"Whisht! Don't be spaking such nonsense! Suppose the fairies heard ye and it brought bad luck!"

Pat smiled. The comment about fairies just seemed to make this whole thing more real.

"Oh, I'm not worried about that, Judy. I don't know how to explain it. Hilary's loved me for nearly twenty years and I've just pushed him aside time after time. But he never gave up and he never stopped loving me. Judy, dear, I'm afraid I've been a horrible little fool. And what if I can't make him happy?"

"That do be the worst thing I've iver heard ye say, Patsy. As if you cud make Jingle miserable. Aven when ye were always refusin' him, he was still happy to be yer frind. Ye do be worryin' too much, me jewel. 'Tis a bad habit ye've picked up."

"I guess you're right. Judy, I miss you so much."

"I miss ye too, Patsy darlint. But I'll always be watchin' over ye. Niver forget that."

Pat's eyes began to mist again and Judy grew serious.

"No, Patsy. No more tears for me, girleen. Ye've got a whole new life ahead of ye. And I better not look down on ye to see yer luvely face all rid and puffy from cryin' over me. We had our time together, and I cudn't have asked for a better life. Ye were like a daughter to me, Patsy. Cuddles, Winnie, Joe, and Siddy, ye were all special to me. But ye were 'me jewel'. I called ye that for a raison, Patsy. Ye'll always be me jewel."

"I love you, Judy. I promise there'll be no mere tears. I promise."

"Pat! Pat, where are you?"

"That's Hilary," said Pat, suddenly. She looked at Judy, still sitting on the tombstone. "Judy, he'll be so glad to see you!"

Pat turned and called to him.

"I'm still in the graveyard, Hilary! Come quickly!"

Hilary turned the corner, concern written plainly on his face. Pat was surprised when he focused only on her.

"Pat, have you been here all this time? I've been waiting for you half an hour. I was beginning to get worried."

"I am sorry, Hilary, but I was talking."

Hilary raised his eyebrow. His grey eyes showed confusion and concern at the same time.

"Talking? To whom?"

"Oh, Hilary," began Pat impatiently. But when she turned around she realized she and Hilary were alone in the little graveyard. Weeping Willy's tombstone was vacant. A gentle breeze blew through the trees, as if to emphasize the utter emptiness of the location. Pat bowed her head, remembering her promise not to cry. Hilary became more concerned by the minute.

"Pat? Pat, is something wrong? What is it?"

He turned her back around to face him and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. To his surprise, they were full of joy and her mouth was curled up in a small smile. She gave him a quick kiss.

"Nothing, darling. Nothing is wrong. Let's get back to the Bay Shore. I'm sure Mother and Father are worried about us."

She took his hand and proceeded to lead him out of the graveyard. Hilary wasn't convinced by her act for a minute, but he followed anyway. As they rounded the corner that would obscure the graveyard, Pat slowed and looked back. Judy, still holding that tiny silver and white garment, stood by the gate, solemnly waving. Unable to control herself, Pat blew a tiny kiss in her direction as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Hilary saw Pat's actions, saw the tear, but did not see Judy. He put an arm around Pat and led her back to the car. As they drove away, Pat leaned out the window and looked back.

"Goodbye, Judy. Goodbye."

She turned and gave Hilary a sad smile. He said nothing, only held her hand tightly as they drove away from the memories that were so dear to them.

Author's Note: Okay, so this one was really long and incredibly sappy, but, what can I say? I'm a sucker. I'll post a more plot-driven chapter soon. Cross my heart and hope to die.