Aunt Janes Nieces Abroad | Page 3

the poor or
unfortunate was no longer in evidence when he found that John
Merrick was a multi-millionaire with a strongly defined habit of doing
good to others and striving in obscure and unconventional ways to
make everybody around him happy. His affection for the little man
increased mightily, but his respectful attitude promptly changed, and a
chance to reprove or discomfit his absurdly rich brother-in-law was one
of his most satisfactory diversions. Uncle John appreciated this, and
holding the dignified Major in loving regard was glad to cross swords
with him now and then to add variety to their pleasant relations.
"It's this way, Major Doyle," he now remarked, coolly. "I've been
worried to death, lately, over business matters; and I need a change."
"Phoo! All your business is attended to by Isham, Marvin & Co.
You've no worry at all. Why, we've just made you a quarter of a million
in C.H. & D's."
The "we" is explained by stating that the Major held an important
position in the great banking house--a position Mr. Merrick had
secured for him some months previously.

"That's it!" said Uncle John. "You've made me a quarter of a million
that I don't want. The C.H. & D. stocks were going to pieces when I
bought them, and I had reason to hope I'd lose a good round sum on
them. But the confounded luck turned, and the result is an
accumulation of all this dreadful money. So, my dear Major, before I'm
tempted to do some-other foolish thing I've determined to run away,
where business can't follow me, and where by industry and
perseverance I can scatter some of my ill-gotten gains."
The Major smiled grimly.
"That's Europe, right enough," he said. "And I don't object, John, to
your going there whenever you please. You're disgracefully countryfied
and uninformed for a man of means, and Europe'll open your eyes and
prove to you how insignificant you really are. I advise you to visit
Ireland, sor, which I'm reliably informed is the centhral jewel in
Europe's crown of beauty. Go; and go whinever you please, sor; but
forbear the wickedness of putting foolish thoughts into our Patsy's
sweet head. She can't go a step, and you know it. It's positive cruelty to
her, sir, to suggest such a thing!"
The Major's speech had a touch of the brogue when he became excited,
but recovered when he calmed down.
"Why, you selfish old humbug!" cried Uncle John, indignantly. "Why
can't she go, when there's money and time to spare? Would you keep
her here to cuddle and spoil a vigorous man like yourself, when she can
run away and see the world and be happy?"
"It's a great happiness to cuddle the Major," said Patsy, softly; "and the
poor man needs it as much as he does his slippers or his oatmeal for
breakfast."
"And Patsy has the house to look after," added the Major,
complacently.
Uncle John gave a snort of contempt.

"For an unreasonable man, show me an Irishman," he remarked. "Here
you've been telling me how Europe is an education and a delight, and in
the next breath you deliberately deprive your little daughter, whom you
pretend to love, of the advantages she might gain by a trip abroad! And
why? Just because you want her yourself, and might be a bit lonesome
without her. But I'll settle that foolishness, sir, in short order. You shall
go with us."
"Impossible!" ejaculated the Major. "It's the time of year I'm most
needed in the office, and Mr. Marvin has been so kind and considerate
that I won't play him a dirty trick by leaving him in the lurch."
Patsy nodded approval.
"That's right, daddy," she said.
Uncle John lay back in the chair and put the newspaper over his face
again. Patsy and her father stared at one another with grave intentness.
Then the Major drew out his handkerchief and mopped his brow.
"You'd like to go, mavourneen?" he asked, softly.
"Yes, daddy; but I won't, of course."
"Tut-tut! don't you go putting yourself against your old father's will,
Patsy. It's not so far to Europe," he continued, thoughtfully, "and you
won't be away much longer than you were when you went to Elmhurst
after Aunt Jane's money--which you didn't get. Mary takes fine care of
our little rooms, and doubtless I shall be so busy that I won't miss you
at all, at all."
"Daddy!"
She was in his lap, now, her chubby arms clasped around his neck and
her soft cheek laid close beside his rough and ruddy one.
"And when ye get back, Patsy darlin'," he whispered, tenderly stroking
her hair, "the joy of the meeting will make up for all that we've suffered.

It's the way of life, mavourneen. Unless a