Aunt Jane's Nieces
"
The girl laughed, lightly.
"It will be easy to cajole the old lady," she said. "In two days I can
so win her heart that she will regret she has neglected me so long."
"Exactly."
"If I get her money we will change our plans, and abandon the
adventure we were forced to undertake. But if, for any reason, that
plan goes awry, we can fall back upon this prettily conceived scheme
which we have undertaken. As you say, it is well to have two strings
to one's bow; and during July and August everyone will be out of town,
and so we shall lose no valuable time."
Mrs. Merrick did not reply. She stitched away in a methodical manner,
as if abstracted, and Louise crossed her delicate hands behind her
head and gazed at her mother reflectively. Presently she said:
"Tell me more of my father's family. Is this rich aunt of mine the
only relative he had?"
"No, indeed. There were two other sisters and a brother--a very
uninteresting lot, with the exception, of your poor father. The eldest
was John Merrick, a common tinsmith, if I remember rightly, who went
into the far west many years ago and probably died there, for he was
never heard from. Then came Jane, who in her young days had some
slight claim to beauty. Anyway, she won the heart of Thomas Bradley,
the wealthy young man I referred to, and she must have been clever to
have induced him to leave her his money. Your father was a year or so
younger than Jane, and after him came Julia, a coarse and
disagreeable creature who married a music-teacher and settled in some
out-of-the-way country town. Once, while your father was alive, she
visited us for a few days, with her baby daughter, and nearly drove us
all crazy. Perhaps she did not find us very hospitable, for we were
too poor to entertain lavishly. Anyway, she went away suddenly after
you had a fight with her child and nearly pulled its hair out by the
roots, and I have never heard of her since."
"A daughter, eh," said Louise, musingly. "Then this rich Aunt Jane has
another niece besides myself.
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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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