Aunt Jane's Nieces
The boy
has a better right than any of us to inherit Elmhurst."
"Then why did Aunt Jane send for us?"
"It's a mystery, dear. Let us try to solve it."
"Come; we'll ask the housekeeper," said Beth. "I'm sure old Misery
will tell us all we want to know."
So they returned to the house and, with little difficulty, found the
old housekeeper.
"Master Kenneth?" she exclaimed. "Why, he's just Master Tom's nephew,
that's all."
"Is this his home?" asked Beth.
"All the home he's got, my dear. His father and mother are both dead,
and Miss Jane took him to care for just because she thought Master Tom
would 'a' liked it."
"Is she fond of him?" enquired Louise.
"Fond of the boy? Why, Miss Jane just hates him, for a fact. She won't
even see him, or have him near her. So he keeps to his little room in
the left wing, and eats and sleeps there."
"It's strange," remarked Beth, thoughtfully. "Isn't he a nice boy?"
"We're all very fond of Master Kenneth," replied the housekeeper,
simply. "But I'll admit he's a queer lad, and has a bad temper. It may
be due to his lack of bringin' up, you know; for he just runs wild,
and old Mr. Chase, who comes from the village to tutor him, is a poor
lot, and lets the boy do as he pleases. For that reason he won't
study, and he won't work, and I'm sure I don't know whatever will
become of him, when Miss Jane dies."
"Thank you," said Beth, much relieved, and the girls walked away with
lighter hearts.
"There's no danger in that quarter, after all," said Louise, gaily.
"The boy is a mere hanger-on. You see, Aunt Jane's old sweetheart,
Thomas Bradley, left everything to her when he died, and she can do as
she likes with it."
After luncheon, which they ate alone and unattended save by the maid
Susan, who was old Misery's daughter, the girls walked away to
the rose arbor, where Beth declared they could read or sew quite
undisturbed.
But sitting upon the bench they found a little old man, his legs
extended, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, and a look of calm
meditation upon his round and placid face.
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
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.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.