Aunt Jane's Nieces
Louise, indeed, seemed quite at home
in her new surroundings, and chatted most vivaciously during the meal;
but Aunt Jane was strangely silent, and Beth had little to say and
seemed awkward and ill at ease.
The old lady retired to her own room shortly after dinner, and
presently sent a servant to request Mr. Watson to join her.
"Silas," she said, when he entered, "what do you think of my nieces?"
"They are very charming girls," he answered, "although they are at
an age when few girls show to good advantage. Why did you not invite
Kenneth to dinner, Jane?"
"The boy?"
"Yes. They would be more at ease in the society of a young gentleman
more nearly their own age."
"Kenneth is a bear. He is constantly saying disagreeable things. In
other words, he is not gentlemanly, and the girls shall have nothing
to do with him."
"Very well," said the lawyer, quietly.
"Which of my nieces do you prefer?" asked the old lady, after a pause.
"I cannot say, on so short an acquaintance," he answered, with
gravity. "Which do you prefer, Jane?"
"They are equally unsatisfactory," she answered. "I cannot imagine
Elmhurst belonging to either, Silas." Then she added, with an abrupt
change of manner: "You must go to New York for me, at once."
"Tonight?"
"No; tomorrow morning. I must see that other niece--the one who defies
me and refuses to answer my second letter."
"Patricia Doyle?"
"Yes. Find her and argue with her. Tell her I am a crabbed old woman
with a whim to know her, and that I shall not die happy unless she
comes to Elmhurst. Bribe her, threaten her--kidnap her if necessary,
Silas; but get her to Elmhurst as quickly as possible."
"I'll do my best, Jane. But why are you so anxious?"
"My time is drawing near, old friend," she replied, less harshly than
usual, "and this matter of my will lies heavily on my conscience. What
if I should die tonight?"
He did not answer.
"There would be a dozen heirs to fight for my money, and dear old
Elmhurst would be sold to strangers," she resumed, with bitterness.
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There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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