Aunt Janes Nieces Abroad | Page 9

hugged the Major in a tight
embrace, whispering that Patsy should be now, as ever, the apple of his
eye and the subject of his most loving care.
"An' don't be forgetting to bring me the meerschaum pipe from Sicily
an' the leathern pocket-book from Florence," the Major said to Patsy,
impressively. "It's little enough for ye to remember if ye go that way,
an' to tell the truth I'm sending ye abroad just for to get them. An' don't
be gettin' off the boat till it stops at a station; an' remember that Uncle
John is full of rheumatics an' can't walk more n' thirty mile an hour,
an'--"
"It's a slander," said Uncle John, stoutly. "I never had rheumatics in my
life."
"Major," observed Patsy, her blue eyes full of tears but her lips trying
to smile, "do have the tailor sponge your vest every Saturday. It's full of
spots even now, and I've been too busy lately to look after you properly.
You're--you're--just disgraceful, Major!"
"All ashore!" called a loud voice.
The Major gathered Patsy into an embrace that threatened to crush her,
and then tossed her into Uncle John's arms and hurried away. Mrs.
Merrick followed, with good wishes for all for a pleasant journey; and

then the four voyagers pressed to the rail and waved their handkerchiefs
frantically to those upon the dock while the band played vociferously
and the sailors ran here and there in sudden excitement and the great
ship left her moorings and moved with proud deliberation down the bay
to begin her long voyage to Gibraltar and the blue waters of the
Mediterranean.
CHAPTER IV
SOME NEW ACQUAINTANCES, AND A WARNING
For an inexperienced tourist Uncle John managed their arrangements
most admirably. He knew nothing at all about ocean travel or what was
the proper method to secure comfortable accommodations; but while
most of the passengers were writing hurried letters in the second deck
gallery, which were to be sent back by the pilot, Mr. Merrick took
occasion to interview the chief steward and the deck steward and
whatever other official he could find, and purchased their good will so
liberally that the effect of his astute diplomacy was immediately
apparent.
His nieces found that the sunniest deck chairs bore their names; the
most desirable seats in the dining hall were theirs when, half famished
because breakfast had been disregarded, they trooped in to luncheon;
the best waiters on the ship attended to their wants, and afterward their
cabins were found to be cosily arranged with every comfort the heart of
maid could wish for.
At luncheon it was found that the steward had placed a letter before
Uncle John's plate. The handwriting of the address Louise, who sat next
her uncle, at once recognized as that of her mother; but she said
nothing.
Mr. Merrick was amazed at the contents of the communication,
especially as he had so recently parted with the lady who had written it.
It said: "I must warn you, John, that my daughter has just escaped a
serious entanglement, and I am therefore more grateful than I can

express that you are taking her far from home for a few weeks. A
young man named Arthur Weldon--a son of the big railroad president,
you know--has been paying Louise marked attentions lately; but I
cautioned her not to encourage him because a rumor had reached me
that he has quarrelled with his father and been disinherited. My
informant also asserted that the young man is wild and headstrong and
cannot be controlled by his parent; but he always seemed gentlemanly
enough at our house, and my greatest objection to him is that he is not
likely to inherit a dollar of his father's money. Louise and I decided to
keep him dangling until we could learn the truth of this matter, for you
can easily understand that with her exceptional attractions there is no
object in Louise throwing herself away upon a poor man, or one who
cannot give her a prominent position in society. Imagine my horror,
John, when I discovered last evening that my only child, whom I have
so fondly cherished, has ungratefully deceived me. Carried away by the
impetuous avowals of this young scapegrace, whom his own father
disowns, she has confessed her love for him--love for a pauper!--and
only by the most stringent exercise of my authority have I been able to
exact from Louise a promise that she will not become formally engaged
to Arthur Weldon, or even correspond with him, until she has returned
home. By that time I shall have learned more of his history and
prospects, when I can better decide whether to allow the affair to go on.
Of course I have hopes that in case my fears are