Aunt Jane's Nieces Page 5

  CHAPTER V.

  AUNT JANE.

  "Lift me up, Phibbs--no, not that way! Confound your awkwardness--doyou want to break my back? There! That's better. Now the pillow at myhead. Oh--h. What are you blinking at, you old owl?"

  "Are you better this morning, Miss Jane?" asked the attendant, withgrave deference.

  "No; I'm worse."

  "You look brighter, Miss Jane."

  "Don't be stupid, Martha Phibbs. I know how I am, better than anydoctor, and I tell you I'm on my last legs."

  "Anything unusual, Miss?"

  "Of course. I can't be on my last legs regularly, can I?"

  "I hope not, Miss."

  "What do you mean by that? Are you trying to insult me, now that I'mweak and helpless? Answer me, you gibbering idiot!"

  "I'm sure you'll feel better soon, Miss. Can't I wheel you into thegarden? It's a beautiful day, and quite sunny and warm already."

  "Be quick about it, then; and don't tire me out with your eternaldoddering. When a thing has to be done, do it. That's my motto."

  "Yes, Miss Jane."

  Slowly and with care the old attendant wheeled her mistress's invalidchair through the doorway of the room, along a stately passage,and out upon a broad piazza at the back of the mansion. Here wereextensive and carefully tended gardens, and the balmy morning air wasredolent with the odor of flowers.

  Jane Merrick sniffed the fragrance with evident enjoyment, and hersharp grey eyes sparkled as she allowed them to roam over the gorgeousexpanse of colors spread out before her.

  "I'll go down, I guess, Phibbs. This may be my last day on earth,and I'll spend an hour with my flowers before I bid them good-byeforever."

  Phibbs pulled a bell-cord, and a soft faraway jingle was heard. Thenan old man came slowly around the corner of the house. His barehead was quite bald. He wore a short canvas apron and carriedpruning-shears in one hand. Without a word of greeting to his mistressor scarce a glance at her half recumbent form, he mounted the steps ofthe piazza and assisted Phibbs to lift the chair to the ground.

  "How are the roses coming on, James?"

  "Poorly, Miss," he answered, and turning his back returned to his workaround the corner. If he was surly, Miss Jane seemed not to mind it.Her glance even softened a moment as she followed his retreating form.

  But now she was revelling amongst the flowers, which she seemed tolove passionately. Phibbs wheeled her slowly along the narrow pathsbetween the beds, and she stopped frequently to fondle a blossom orpull away a dead leaf or twig from a bush. The roses were magnificent,in spite of the old gardener's croaking, and the sun was warm andgrateful and the hum of the bees musical and sweet.

  "It's hard to die and leave all this, Phibbs," said the old woman, acatch in her voice. "But it's got to be done."

  "Not for a while yet, I hope, Miss Jane."

  "It won't be long, Phibbs. But I must try to live until my niecescome, and I can decide which of them is most worthy to care for theold place when I am gone."

  "Yes, Miss."

  "I've heard from two of them, already. They jumped at the bait I heldout quickly enough; but that's only natural. And the letters are verysensible ones, too. Elizabeth DeGraf says she will be glad to come,and thanks me for inviting her. Louise Merrick is glad to come, also,but hopes I am deceived about my health and that she will make me morethan one visit after we become friends. A very proper feeling; but I'mnot deceived, Phibbs. My end's in plain sight."

  "Yes, Miss Jane."

  "And somebody's got to have my money and dear Elmhurst when I'mthrough with them. Who will it be, Phibbs?"

  "I'm sure I don't know, Miss."

  "Nor do I. The money's mine, and I can do what I please with it; andI'm under no obligation to anyone."

  "Except Kenneth," said a soft voice behind her.

  Jane Merrick gave a start at the interruption and turned red and angryas, without looking around, she answered:

  "Stuff and nonsense! I know my duties and my business, Silas Watson."

  "To be sure," said a little, withered man, passing around the chairand facing the old woman with an humble, deprecating air. He wasclothed in black, and his smooth-shaven, deeply lined face waspleasant of expression and not without power and shrewd intelligence.The eyes, however, were concealed by heavy-rimmed spectacles, and hismanner was somewhat shy and reserved. However, he did not hesitate tospeak frankly to his old friend, nor minded in the least if he arousedher ire.

  "No one knows better than you, dear Miss Jane, her duties andobligations; and no one performs them more religiously. But yourrecent acts, I confess, puzzle me. Why should you choose from a lotof inexperienced, incompetent girls a successor to Thomas Bradley'sfortune, when he especially requested you in his will to look afterany of his relatives, should they need assistance? Kenneth Forbes, hisown nephew, was born after Tom's death, to be sure; but he is alone inthe world now, an orphan, and has had no advantages to help him alongin life since his mother's death eight years ago. I think Tom Bradleymust have had a premonition of what was to come even though his sisterwas not married at the time of his death, and I am sure he would wantyou to help Kenneth now."

  "He placed me under no obligations to leave the boy any money,"snapped the old woman, white with suppressed wrath, "you know thatwell enough, Silas Watson, for you drew up the will."

  The old gentleman slowly drew a pattern upon the gravelled walk withthe end of his walking-stick.

  "Yes, I drew up the will," he said, deliberately, "and I remember thathe gave to you, his betrothed bride, all that he possessed--gave itgladly and lovingly, and without reserve. He was very fond of you,Miss Jane. But perhaps his conscience pricked him a bit, after all,for he added the words: 'I shall expect you to look after the welfareof my only relative, my sister. Katherine Bradley--or any of herheirs.' It appears to me, Miss Jane, that that is a distinctobligation. The boy is now sixteen and as fine a fellow as one oftenmeets."

  "Bah! An imbecile--an awkward, ill-mannered brat who is only fit for astable-boy! I know him, Silas, and I know he'll never amount to a hillof beans. Leave _him_ my money? Not if I hadn't a relative on earth!"

  "You misjudge him, Jane. Kenneth is all right if you'll treat himdecently. But he won't stand your abuse and I don't think the less ofhim for that."

  "Why abuse? Haven't I given him a home and an education, all becauseThomas asked me to look after his relatives? And he's been rebelliousand pig-headed and sullen in return for my kindness, so naturallythere's little love lost between us."

  "You resented your one obligation, Jane; and although you fulfilled itto the letter you did not in the spirit of Tom Bradley's request. Idon't blame the boy for not liking you."

  "Sir!"

  "All right, Jane; fly at me if you will," said the little man, with asmile; "but I intend to tell you frankly what I think of your actions,just as long as we remain friends."

  Her stern brows unbent a trifle.

  "That's why we are friends, Silas; and it's useless to quarrel withyou now that I'm on my last legs. A few days more will end me, I'mpositive; so bear with me a little longer, my friend."

  He took her withered hand in his and kissed it gently.

  "You're not so very bad, Jane," said he, "and I'm almost sure youwill be with us for a long time to come. But you're more nervous andirritable than usual, I'll admit, and I fear this invasion of yournieces won't be good for you. Are they really coming?"

  "Two of them are, I'm sure, for they've accepted my invitation," shereplied.

  "Here's a letter that just arrived," he said, taking it from hispocket. "Perhaps it contains news from the third niece."

  "My glasses, Phibbs!" cried Miss Jane, eagerly, and the attendantstarted briskly for the house to get them.

  "What do you know about these girls?" asked the old lawyer curiously.

  "Nothing whatever. I scarcely knew of their existence until you huntedthem out for me and found they were alive. But I'm going to know them,and study them, and the one tha
t's most capable and deserving shallhave my property."

  Mr. Watson sighed.

  "And Kenneth?" he asked.

  "I'll provide an annuity for the boy, although it's more than hedeserves. When I realized that death was creeping upon me I felt astrange desire to bequeath my fortune to one of my own flesh andblood. Perhaps I didn't treat my brothers and sisters generously inthe old days, Silas."

  "Perhaps not," he answered.

  "So I'll make amends to one of their children. That is, if any one ofthe three nieces should prove worthy."

  "I see. But if neither of the three is worthy?"

  "Then I'll leave every cent to charity--except Kenneth's annuity."

  The lawyer smiled.

  "Let us hope," said he, "that they will prove all you desire. It wouldbreak my heart, Jane, to see Elmhurst turned into a hospital."

  Phibbs arrived with the spectacles, and Jane Merrick read her letter,her face growing harder with every line she mastered. Then shecrumpled the paper fiercely in both hands, and a moment later smoothedit out carefully and replaced it in the envelope.

  Silas Watson had watched her silently.

  "Well," said he, at last, "another acceptance?"

  "No, a refusal," said she. "A refusal from the Irishman's daughter,Patricia Doyle."

  "That's bad," he remarked, but in a tone of relief.

  "I don't see it in that light at all," replied Miss Jane. "The girlis right. It's the sort of letter I'd have written myself, under thecircumstances. I'll write again, Silas, and humble myself, and try toget her to come."

  "You surprise me!" said the lawyer.

  "I surprise myself," retorted the old woman, "but I mean to know moreof this Patricia Doyle. Perhaps I've found a gold mine, Silas Watson!"