L. Frank Baum_Aunt Jane 01 (14 page)

Although he had no teacher, as yet, he had begun to understand color
a little, and succeeded in finishing one or two water-color sketches
which Patsy, who knew nothing at all of such things, pronounced
"wonderfully fine." Of course the boy blushed with pleasure and was
encouraged to still greater effort.

The girl was also responsible for Kenneth's sudden advancement in the
household at Elmhurst.

One day she said calmly to Aunt Jane:

"I've invited Kenneth to dinner this evening."

The woman flew angry in an instant.

"Who gave you such authority?" she demanded.

"No one. I just took it," said Patsy, saucily.

"He shall not come," declared Aunt Jane, sternly. "I'll have no
interference from you, Miss, with my household arrangements. Phibbs,
call Louise!"

Patsy's brow grew dark. Presently Louise appeared.

"Instruct the servants to forbid that boy to enter my dining room this
evening," she said to Louise.

"Also, Louise," said Patsy, "tell them not to lay a plate for me, and
ask Oscar to be ready with the wagon at five o'clock. I'm going home."

Louise hesitated, and looked from Miss Jane to Patsy, and back again.
They were glaring upon each other like two gorgons.

Then she burst into laughter; she could not help it, the sight was too
ridiculous. A moment later Patsy was laughing, too, and then Aunt Jane
allowed a grim smile to cross her features.

"Never mind, Louise," she said, with remarkable cheerfulness; "We'll
compromise matters."

"How?" asked Patsy.

"By putting a plate for Kenneth," said her aunt, cooly. "I imagine I
can stand his society for one evening."

So the matter was arranged to Patricia's satisfaction, and the boy
came to dinner, trembling and unhappy at first, but soon placed at
ease by the encouragements of the three girls. Indeed, he behaved so
well, in the main, and was so gentle and unobstrusive, that Aunt Jane
looked at him with surprise, and favored him with one or two speeches
which he answered modestly and well.

Patsy was radiant with delight, and the next day Aunt Jane remarked
casually that she did not object to the boy's presence at dinner, at
all, and he could come whenever he liked.

This arrangement gave great pleasure to both Uncle John and Mr.
Watson, the latter of whom was often present at the "state dinner,"
and both men congratulated Patsy upon the distinct victory she had
won. No more was said about her leaving Elmhurst. The Major wrote that
he was having a splendid time with the colonel, and begged for an
extension of his vacation, to which Patsy readily agreed, she being
still unable on account of her limb to return to her work at Madam
Borne's.

And so the days glided pleasantly by, and August came to find a happy
company of young folks at old Elmhurst, with Aunt Jane wonderfully
improved in health and Uncle John beaming complacently upon everyone
he chanced to meet.

It was Lawyer Watson's suggestion that she was being unjust to Beth
and Louise, in encouraging them to hope they might inherit Elmhurst,
that finally decided Aunt Jane to end all misunderstandings and inform
her nieces of the fact that she had made a final disposition of her
property.

So one morning she sent word asking them all into her room, and when
the nieces appeared they found Uncle John and the lawyer already
in their aunt's presence. There was an air of impressive formality
pervading the room, although Miss Merrick's brother, at least, was as
ignorant as her nieces of the reason why they had been summoned.

Patsy came in last, hobbling actively on her crutches, although the
leg was now nearly recovered, and seated herself somewhat in the rear
of the apartment.

Aunt Jane looked into one expectant face after another with curious
interest, and then broke the silence by saying, gravely, but in more
gentle tones than she was accustomed to use:

"I believe, young ladies, that you have understood from the first my
strongest reason for inviting you to visit Elmhurst this summer. I
am old, and must soon pass away, and instead of leaving you and
your parents, who would be my legitimate heirs, to squabble over my
property when I am gone, I decided to excute a will bequeathing my
estate to some one who would take proper care of it and maintain it in
a creditable manner. I had no personal acquaintance with any of you,
but judged that one out of the three might serve my purpose, and
therefore invited you all here."

By this time the hearts of Louise and Beth were fluttering with
excitement, and even Patsy looked interested. Uncle John sat a little
apart, watching them with an amused smile upon his face, and the
lawyer sat silent with his eyes fixed upon a pattern in the rug.

"In arriving at a decision, which I may say I have succeeded in
doing," continued Aunt Jane, calmly, "I do not claim to have acted
with either wisdom or discernment. I have simply followed my own whim,
as I have the right to do, and selected the niece I prefer to become
my heiress. You cannot accuse of injustice, because none of you had a
right to expect anything of me; but I will say this, that I am well
pleased with all three of you, and now wish that I had taken pains to
form your acquaintance earlier in life. You might have cheered my old
age and rendered it less lonely and dull."

"Well said, Jane," remarked Uncle John, nodding his head approvingly.

She did not notice the interruption, but presently continued:

"Some days ago I asked my lawyer, Mr. Watson, to draw up my will. It
was at once prepared and signed, and now stands as my last will and
testament. I have given to you, Louise, the sum of five thousand
dollars."

Louise laughed nervously, and threw out her hands with an indifferent
gesture.

"Many thanks, Aunt," she said, lightly.

"To you, Beth," continued Miss Merrick, "I have given the same sum."

Beth's heart sank, and tears forced themselves into her eyes in spite
of her efforts to restrain them. She said nothing.

Aunt Jane turned to her brother.

"I have also provided for you, John, in the sum of five thousand
dollars."

"Me!" he exclaimed, astounded. "Why, suguration, Jane, I don't—"

"Silence!" she cried, sternly. "I expect neither thanks nor protests.
If you take care of the money, John, it will last you as long as you
live."

Uncle John laughed. He doubled up in his chair and rocked back and
forth, shaking his little round body as if he had met with the most
amusing thing that had ever happened in his life. Aunt Jane stared
at him, while Louise and Beth looked their astonishment, but Patsy's
clear laughter rang above Uncle John's gasping chuckles.

"I hope, dear Uncle," said she, mischievously, "that when poor Aunt
Jane is gone you'll be able to buy a new necktie."

He looked at her whimsically, and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Thank you, Jane," said the little man to his sister. "It's a lot of
money, and I'll be proud to own it."

"Why did you laugh." demanded Aunt Jane.

"I just happened to think that our old Dad once said I'd never be
worth a dollar in all my life. What would he say now, Jane, if he knew
I stood good to have five thousand—if I can manage to outlive you?"

She turned from him with an expression of scorn.

"In addition to these bequests," said she, "I have left five thousand
to the boy and twenty thousand to Mr. Watson. The remainder of the
property will go to Patricia."

For a moment the room was intensely still. Then Patricia said, with
quiet determination:

"You may as well make another will, Aunt. I'll not touch a penny of
your money."

"Why not?" asked the woman, almost fiercely.

"You have been kind to me, and you mean well," said Patricia. "I would
rather not tell you my reasons."

"I demand to know them!"

"Ah, aunt; can't you understand, without my speaking?"

"No," said the other; but a flush crossed her pale cheek,
nevertheless.

Patsy arose and stumped to a position directly in front of Jane
Merrick, where she rested on her crutches. Her eyes were bright and
full of indignation, and her plain little face was so white that every
freckle showed distinctly.

"There was a time, years ago," she began in a low voice, "when you
were very rich and your sister Violet, my mother, was very poor. Her
health was bad, and she had me to care for, while my father was very
ill with a fever. She was proud, too, and for herself she would never
have begged a penny of anyone; but for my sake she asked her rich
sister to loan her a little money to tide her over her period of want.
What did you do, Jane Merrick, you who lived in a beautiful mansion,
and had more money than you could use? You insulted her, telling her
she belonged to a family of beggars, and that none of them could
wheedle your money away from you!"

"It was true," retorted the elder woman, stubbornly. "They were after
me like a drove of wolves—every Merrick of them all—and they would
have ruined me if I had let them bleed me as they wished."

"So far as my mother is concerned, that's a lie," said Patsy, quietly.
"She never appealed to you but that once, but worked as bravely as she
could to earn money in her own poor way. The result was that she died,
and I was left to the care of strangers until my father was well
enough to support me."

She paused, and again the room seemed unnaturally still.

"I'm sorry, girl," said Aunt Jane, at last, in trembling tones. "I was
wrong. I see it now, and I am sorry I refused Violet."

"Then I forgive you!" said Patsy, impulsively. "I forgive you all,
Aunt Jane; for through your own selfishness you cut yourself off from
all your family—from all who might have loved you—and you have lived
all these years a solitary and loveless life. There'll be no grudge
of mine to follow you to the grave, Aunt Jane. But," her voice
hardening, "I'll never touch a penny of the money that was denied my
poor dead mother. Thank God the old Dad and I are independent, and can
earn our own living."

Uncle John came to where Patsy stood and put both arms around her,
pressing her—crutches and all—close to his breast. Then he released
her, and without a word stalked from the room.

"Leave me, now," said Aunt Jane, in a husky voice. "I want time to
think."

Patricia hobbled forward, placed one hand caressingly upon the gray
head, and then bent and kissed Aunt Jane's withered cheek.

"That's right," she whispered. "Think it over, dear. It's all past
and done, now, and I'm sorry I had to hurt you. But—not a penny,
aunt—remember, not a penny will I take!"

Then she left the room, followed by Louise and Beth, both of whom were
glad to be alone that they might conquer their bitter disappointment.

Louise, however, managed to accept the matter philosophically, as the
following extract from her letter to her mother will prove:

"After all, it isn't so bad as it might be, mater, dear," she wrote.
"I'll get five thousand, at the very worst, and that will help us on
our way considerably. But I am quite sure that Patsy means just what
she says, and that she will yet induce Aunt Jane to alter her will. In
that case I believe the estate will either be divided between Beth and
me, or I will get it all. Anyway, I shall stay here and play my best
cards until the game is finished."

Aunt Jane had a bad night, as might have been expected after her
trials of the previous day.

She sent for Patricia early in the forenoon, and when the girl arrived
she was almost shocked by the change in her aunt's appearance. The
invalid's face seemed drawn and gray, and she lay upon her cushions
breathing heavily and without any appearance of vitality or strength.
Even the sharpness and piercing quality of her hard gray eyes was
lacking and the glance she cast at her niece was rather pleading than
defiant.

"I want you to reconsider your decision of yesterday, Patricia," she
begun.

"Don't ask me to do that, aunt," replied the girl, firmly. "My mind is
fully made up."

"I have made mistakes, I know," continued the woman feebly; "but I
want to do the right thing, at last."

"Then I will show you how," said Patricia, quickly. "You mustn't think
me impertinent, aunt, for I don't mean to be so at all. But tell me;
why did you wish to leave me your money?"

"Because your nature is quite like my own, child, and I admire your
independence and spirit."

"But my cousins are much more deserving," said she, thoughtfully.
"Louise is very sweet and amiable, and loves you more than I do, while
Beth is the most sensible and practical girl I have ever known."

"It may be so," returned Aunt Jane, impatiently; "but I have left each
a legacy, Patricia, and you alone are my choice for the mistress of
Elmhurst. I told you yesterday I should not try to be just. I mean to
leave my property according to my personal desire, and no one shall
hinder me." This last with a spark of her old vigor.

"But that is quite wrong, aunt, and if you desire me to inherit your
wealth you will be disappointed. A moment ago you said you wished to
do the right thing, at last. Don't you know what that is?"

"Perhaps you will tell me," said Aunt Jane, curiously.

"With pleasure," returned Patsy. "Mr. Bradley left you this property
because he loved you, and love blinded him to all sense of justice.
Such an estate should not have passed into the hands of aliens because
of a lover's whim. He should have considered his own flesh and blood."

"There was no one but his sister, who at that time was not married and
had no son," explained Aunt Jane, calmly. "But he did not forget her
and asked me to look after Katherine Bradley in case she or her heirs
ever needed help. I have done so. When his mother died, I had the boy
brought here, and he has lived here ever since."