AUNT JANE'S NIECES
By
EDITH VAN DYNE
1906
A LIST OF CHAPTERS
CHAPTER
I BETH RECEIVES AN INVITATION II MOTHER AND DAUGHTER III PATSY IV LOUISE MAKES A DISCOVERY V AUNT JANE VI THE BOY VII THE FIRST WARNING VIII THE DIPLOMAT IX COUSINS X THE MAN WITH THE BUNDLE XI THE MAD GARDENER XII UNCLE JOHN GETS ACQUAINTED XIII THE OTHER NIECE XIV KENNETH IS FRIGHTENED XV PATSY MEETS WITH AN ACCIDENT XVI GOOD RESULTS XVII AUNT JANE'S HEIRESS XVIII PATRICIA SPEAKS FRANKLY XIX DUPLICITY XX IN THE GARDEN XXI READING THE WILL XXII JAMES TELLS A STRANGE STORY XXIII PATSY ADOPTS AN UNCLE XXIV HOME AGAIN XXV UNCLE JOHN ACTS QUEERLY XXVI A BUNCH OF KEYS XXVII LOUISE MAKES A DISCOVERY XXVIII PATSY LOSES HER JOB
XXIX THE MAJOR DEMANDS AN EXPLANATION
CHAPTER I.
BETH RECEIVES AN INVITATION.
Professor De Graf was sorting the mail at the breakfast table.
"Here's a letter for you, Beth," said he, and tossed it across thecloth to where his daughter sat.
The girl raised her eyebrows, expressing surprise. It was somethingunusual for her to receive a letter. She picked up the square envelopebetween a finger and thumb and carefully read the inscription, "MissElizabeth De Graf, Cloverton, Ohio." Turning the envelope she found onthe reverse flap a curious armorial emblem, with the word "Elmhurst."
Then she glanced at her father, her eyes big and somewhat startledin expression. The Professor was deeply engrossed in a letter fromBenjamin Lowenstein which declared that a certain note must be paid atmaturity. His weak, watery blue eyes stared rather blankly from behindthe gold-rimmed spectacles. His flat nostrils extended and compressedlike those of a frightened horse; and the indecisive mouth wastremulous. At the best the Professor was not an imposing personage.He wore a dressing-gown of soiled quilted silk and linen not tooimmaculate; but his little sandy moustache and the goatee thatdecorated his receding chin were both carefully waxed into sharppoints--an indication that he possessed at least one vanity. Threedays in the week he taught vocal and instrumental music to theambitious young ladies of Cloverton. The other three days he rode toPelham's Grove, ten miles away, and taught music to all who wished toacquire that desirable accomplishment. But the towns were small andthe fees not large, so that Professor De Graf had much difficulty insecuring an income sufficient for the needs of his family.
The stout, sour-visaged lady who was half-hidden by her newspaper atthe other end of the table was also a bread-winner, for she taughtembroidery to the women of her acquaintance and made various articlesof fancy-work that were sold at Biggar's Emporium, the largest storein Cloverton. So, between them, the Professor and Mrs. DeGraf managedto defray ordinary expenses and keep Elizabeth at school; but therewere one or two dreadful "notes" that were constantly hanging overtheir heads like the sword of Damocles, threatening to ruin them atany moment their creditors proved obdurate.
Finding her father and mother both occupied, the girl ventured to openher letter. It was written in a sharp, angular, feminine hand and readas follows:
"My Dear Niece: It will please me to have you spend the months of Julyand August as my guest at Elmhurst. I am in miserable health, andwish to become better acquainted with you before I die. A check fornecessary expenses is enclosed and I shall expect you to arrivepromptly on the first of July.
"Your Aunt,
"JANE MERRICK."
A low exclamation from Elizabeth caused her father to look in herdirection. He saw the bank check lying beside her plate and the sightlent an eager thrill to his voice.
"What is it, Beth?"
"A letter from Aunt Jane."
Mrs. De Graf gave a jump and crushed the newspaper into her lap.
"What!" she screamed.
"Aunt Jane has invited me to spend two months at Elmhurst" saidElizabeth, and passed the letter to her mother, who grabbed itexcitedly.
"How big is the check, Beth?" enquired the Professor, in a low tone.
"A hundred dollars. She says it's for my expenses.
"Huh! Of course you won't go near that dreadful old cat, so we can usethe money to better advantage."
"Adolph!"
The harsh, cutting voice was that of his wife, and the Professorshrank back in his chair.
"Your sister Jane is a mean, selfish, despicable old female," hemuttered. "You've said so a thousand times yourself, Julia."
"My sister Jane is a very wealthy woman, and she's a Merrick,"returned the lady, severely. "How dare you--a common De Graf--asperseher character?"
"The De Grafs are a very good family," he retorted.
"Show me one who is wealthy! Show me one who is famous!"
"I can't," said the Professor. "But they're decent, and they'regenerous, which is more than can be said for your tribe."
"Elizabeth must go to Elmhurst," said Mrs. De Graf, ignoring herhusband's taunt.
"She shan't. Your sister refused to loan me fifty dollars last year,when I was in great trouble. She hasn't given you a single cent sinceI married you. No daughter of mine shall go In Elmhurst to be bulliedand insulted by Jane Merrick."
"Adolph, try to conceal the fact that you're a fool," said his wife."Jane is in a desperate state of health, and can't live very long atthe best. I believe she's decided to leave her money to Elizabeth, orshe never would have invited the child to visit her. Do you want tofly in the face of Providence, you doddering old imbecile?"
"No," said the Professor, accepting the doubtful appellation without ablush. "How much do you suppose Jane is worth?"
"A half million, at the very least. When she was a girl she inheritedfrom Thomas Bradley, the man she was engaged to marry, and who wassuddenly killed in a railway accident, more than a quarter of amillion dollars, besides that beautiful estate of Elmhurst. I don'tbelieve Jane has even spent a quarter of her income, and the fortunemust have increased enormously. Elizabeth will be one of thewealthiest heiresses in the country!"
"If she gets the money, which I doubt," returned the Professor,gloomily.
"Why should you doubt it, after this letter?"
"You had another sister and a brother, and they both had children,"said he.
"They each left a girl. I admit. But Jane has never favored themany more than she has me. And this invitation, coming; when Jane ispractically on her death bed, is a warrant that Beth will get themoney."
"I hope she will," sighed the music teacher. "We all need it badenough, I'm sure."
During this conversation Elizabeth, who might be supposed the one mostinterested in her Aunt's invitation, sat silently at her place, eatingher breakfast with her accustomed calmness of demeanor and scarcelyglancing at her parents.
She had pleasant and quite regular features, for a girl of fifteen,with dark hair and eyes--the "Merrick eyes," her mother proudlydeclared--and a complexion denoting perfect health and colored withthe rosy tints of youth. Her figure was a bit slim and unformed,and her shoulders stooped a little more than was desirable; but inCloverton Elizabeth had the reputation of being "a pretty girl," and asullen and unresponsive one as well.
Presently she rose from her seat, glanced at the clock, and then wentinto the hall to get her hat and school-books. The prospect of beingan heiress some day had no present bearing on the fact that it wastime to start for school.
Her father came to the door with the check in his hand.
"Just sign your name on the back of this, Beth," said he, "and I'llget it cashed for you."
The girl shook her head.
"No, father," she answered. "If I decide to go to Aunt Jane'
s I mustbuy some clothes; and if you get the money I'll never see a cent ofit."
"When will you decide?" he asked.
"There's no hurry. I'll take time to think it over," she replied. "Ihate Aunt Jane, of course; so if I go to her I must be a hypocrite,and pretend to like her, or she never will leave me her property.
"Well, Beth?"
"Perhaps it will be worth while; but if I go into that woman's houseI'll be acting a living lie."
"But think of the money!" said her mother.
"I do think of it. That's why I didn't tell you at once to send thecheck back to Aunt Jane. I'm going to think of everything before Idecide. But if I go--if I allow this money to make me a hypocrite--Iwon't stop at trifles, I assure you. It's in my nature to bedreadfully wicked and cruel and selfish, and perhaps the money isn'tworth the risk I run of becoming depraved."
"Elizabeth!"
"Good-bye; I'm late now," she continued, in the same quiet tone, andwalked slowly down the walk.
The Professor twisted his moustache and looked into his wife's eyeswith a half frightened glance.
"Beth's a mighty queer girl," he muttered.
"She's very like her Aunt Jane," returned Mrs. De Graf, thoughtfullygazing after her daughter. "But she's defiant and wilful enough forall the Merricks put together. I do hope she'll decide to go toElmhurst."