Aunt Janes Nieces Abroad | Page 5

firmament of disappointment. Supposing Uncle
John to be poor, she insisted upon carrying him to New York with her
and sharing with him the humble tenement room in which she lived
with her father--a retired veteran who helped pay the family expenses
by keeping books for a mercantile firm, while Patsy worked in a
hair-dresser's shop.
It was now that Uncle John proved a modern fairy godfather to Aunt
Jane's nieces--who were likewise his own nieces. The three girls had
little in common except their poverty, Elizabeth De Graf being the
daughter of a music teacher, in Cloverton, Ohio, while Louise Merrick
lived with her widowed mother in a social atmosphere of the second
class in New York, where the two women frankly intrigued to ensnare
for Louise a husband who had sufficient means to ensure both mother
and daughter a comfortable home. In spite of this worldly and unlovely
ambition, which their circumstances might partially excuse, Louise,

who was but seventeen, had many good and womanly qualities, could
they have been developed in an atmosphere uninfluenced by the
schemes of her vain and selfish mother.
Uncle John, casting aside the mask of poverty, came to the relief of all
three girls. He settled the incomes of substantial sums of money upon
both Beth and Louise, making them practically independent. For Patsy
he bought a handsome modern flat building located at 3708 Willing
Square, and installed her and the Major in its cosiest apartment, the
rents of the remaining flats giving the Doyles an adequate income for
all time to come. Here Uncle John, believing himself cordially
welcome, as indeed he was, made his own home, and it required no
shrewd guessing to arrive at the conclusion that little Patsy was
destined to inherit some day all his millions.
The great banking and brokerage firm of Isham, Marvin & Co. had
long managed successfully John Merrick's vast fortune, and at his
solicitation it gave Major Doyle a responsible position in its main
office, with a salary that rendered him independent of his daughter's
suddenly acquired wealth and made him proud and self-respecting.
Money had no power to change the nature of the Doyles. The Major
remained the same simple, honest, courteous yet brusque old warrior
who had won Uncle John's love as a hard working book-keeper; and
Patsy's bright and sunny disposition had certain power to cheer any
home, whether located in a palace or a hovel.
Never before in his life had Uncle John been so supremely happy, and
never before had Aunt Jane's three nieces had so many advantages and
pleasures. It was to confer still further benefits upon these girls that
their eccentric uncle had planned this unexpected European trip.
His telegram to Elizabeth was characteristic:
"Patsy, Louise and I sail for Europe next Tuesday. Will you join us as
my guest? If so, take first train to New York, where I will look after
your outfit. Answer immediately."

That was a message likely to surprise a country girl, but it did not strike
John Merrick as in any way extraordinary. He thought he could depend
upon Beth. She would be as eager to go as he was to have her, and
when he had paid for the telegram he dismissed the matter from further
thought.
Next morning Patsy reminded him that instead of going down town he
must personally notify Louise Merrick of the proposed trip; so he took
a cross-town line and arrived at the Merrick's home at nine o'clock.
Mrs. Merrick was in a morning wrapper, sipping her coffee in an upper
room. But she could not deny herself to Uncle John, her dead husband's
brother and her only daughter's benefactor (which meant indirectly her
own benefactor), so she ordered the maid to show him up at once.
"Louise is still sweetly sleeping," she said, "and won't waken for hours
yet."
"Is anything wrong with her?" he asked, anxiously.
"Oh, dear, no! but everyone does not get up with the milkman, as you
do, John; and the dear child was at the opera last night, which made her
late in getting home."
"Doesn't the opera let out before midnight, the same as the theatres?" he
asked.
"I believe so; but there is the supper, afterward, you know."
"Ah, yes," he returned, thoughtfully. "I've always noticed that the opera
makes folks desperately hungry, for they flock to the restaurants as
soon as they can get away. Singular, isn't it?"
"Why, I never thought of it in that light."
"But Louise is well?"
"Quite well, thank you."

"That's a great relief, for I'm going to take her to Europe with me next
week," he said.
Mrs. Merrick was so astonished that she nearly dropped her coffee-cup
and could make no better reply than to stare blankly at her
brother-in-law.