A College Girl | Page 7

sold, but they'll find their mistake! We'll get up at
five on Monday morning and have the thing in working trig before they
have opened their silly eyes."
This programme being duly enacted, the telegraph stations remained
for years as an outward and visible sign of the only piece of work
which Harry Garnett was ever known to accomplish before the hour of

his belated breakfast.
CHAPTER THREE.
AUNT MARIA.
Among the crowd of relations near and far most families possess one
relation par excellence, who stands out from all the rest by reason
either of generosity, aggravatingness, or strength of character.
Sometimes this relation is an uncle; more often it is an aunt; almost
invariably he or she is unmarried or widowed, because the single state
naturally allows more time and energy for interests beyond the personal
household.
The Garnetts' relation par excellence was Aunt Maria--Lady Maria as
they erroneously called her, being unsophisticated in the niceties of the
peerage. Her rightful cognomen was Lady Hayes, and she was the
elderly, very elderly, widow of an estimable gentleman who had been
created a Baronet in recognition of services rendered to his political
party. The Garnetts felt that it was very stylish to possess an aunt with a
title, and introduced her name with an air when the Vernons grew
superior on the subject of "the grounds." Lady Hayes was an eccentric
individual who inhabited a beautiful old country house in the Midlands,
from which base she was given to suddenly swooping down upon her
relations, choosing by preference for these visits the times when carpets
had been sent away to be cleaned, or the maids granted days off to visit
relations in the country. Then Lady Hayes would appear, announce her
intention of staying a couple of nights, declare her unwillingness to
give the slightest trouble, and proceed to request that her maid should
be accommodated with a room next to her own, and that they should
both be supplied with a vegetarian diet, supplemented by glasses of
sterilised milk at intervals of every two hours. Sometimes the
vegetarianism gave place to a diet of minced beef, but whatever might
be the diet of the moment it was invariably something which no one
else wanted to eat, and which took about three times as long to prepare
as the entire rations for the household dinner of ten.

It was at the close of the Midsummer term, when the Garnett family
were blissfully preparing for the yearly migration to the sea, that a letter
from Aunt Maria fell like a bombshell upon the peaceful scene. This
year the holiday promised to be even more blissful than usual, for the
Vernons had secured a second farmhouse, not ten minutes' walk from
their own, and connected with the sea by the same fascinating
field-paths. A farm and the sea! Could there possibly exist a more
fascinating combination? The young people sniffed in advance the two
dear, distinctive odours which, more than anything else, presented the
scenes before them--the soft, cowy-milky scent of the farm, the salt,
sharp whiff of the brine. From morn till night, at every available
moment, they discussed the day's programme--feeding animals, calling
the cows, bathing, picnicking on the sands, crab-hunting, mountain
climbing. Excitement grew until it really seemed impossible to exist
through the intervening days, and then the bombshell fell! A letter
arrived by an evening post, when Mr and Mrs Garnett were enjoying
the one undisturbed hour of the day. It bore the Hayes crest, and was
written in Aunt Maria's small, crabbed handwriting--
"My dear Emily,--
"I propose, all being well, to pay you a short visit from Tuesday to
Thursday next, twelfth to fifteenth instant. Please let me have the same
rooms as on my last visit. I am at present living on Benger's food, and
must ask you to see that it is made freshly for each meal, in a perfectly
clean, enamelled saucepan.
"The chief object of my visit is to bring back one of your three
daughters to stay with me during the summer vacation. I have been
feeling somewhat lonely of late, and my doctor recommends young
society, so it has occurred to me that in obeying his instructions I might
at the same time afford pleasure and benefit to one of your family.
Should I become interested in the child it might be to her advantage
hereafter, but it must be understood that I can make no promises on this
point.
"The eighteen months which have elapsed since my last visit have
somewhat dimmed my remembrance of your girls, so that I must see

them again before deciding as to which of the three I should prefer as a
companion.
"With love to William and yourself,--
"Believe me, my dear Emily,--
"Your affectionate