Aunt Janes Nieces in Society | Page 2

most exclusive in America."
"I'm afraid it will continue to exclude our girls, Martha."
"Not if you do your duty, John."
"That reminds me. What is your idea of my duty, Martha? You've been talking in riddles, so far," he protested, shifting uneasily in his chair.
"Let me explain more concisely, then. Your millions, John Merrick, have made you really famous, even in this wealthy metropolis. In the city and at your club you must meet with men who have the _entrée_ to the most desirable social circles: men who might be induced to introduce your nieces to their families, whose endorsement would effect their proper presentation."
"Nonsense."
"It isn't nonsense at all."
"Then blamed if I know what you're driving at."
"You're very obtuse."
"I won't agree to that till I know what 'obtuse' means. See here, Martha; you say this social position, that the girls are so crazy for--but they've never said anything to me about it--can't be bought. In the next breath you urge me to buy it. Phoo! You're a thoughtless, silly woman, Martha, and let your wild ambitions run away with your common sense."
Mrs. Merrick sighed, but stubbornly maintained her position.
"I don't suggest 'buying' such people; not at all, John. It's what is called--ah--ah--'influence'; or, or--"
"Or 'pull.' 'Pull' is a better word, Martha. Do you imagine there's any value in social position that can be acquired by 'pull'?"
"Of course. It has to be acquired some way--if one is not born to it. As a matter of fact, Louise is entitled, through her connection with my family--"
"Pshaw, I knew your family, Martha," he interrupted. "An arrant lot of humbugs."
"John Merrick!"
"Don't get riled. It's the truth. I knew 'em. On her father's side Louise has just as much to brag about--an' no more. We Merricks never amounted to much, an' didn't hanker to trip the light fantastic in swell society. Once, though, when I was a boy, I had a cousin who spelled down the whole crowd at a spellin'-bee. We were quite proud of him then; but he went wrong after his triumph, poor fellow! and became a book agent. Now, Martha, I imagine this talk of yours is all hot air, and worked off on me not because the girls want society, but because you want it for 'em. It's all your ambition, I'll bet a peanut."
"You misjudge me, as usual, John. I am urging a matter of simple justice. Your nieces are lovely girls, fitted to shine in any sphere of life," she continued, knowing his weak point and diplomatically fostering it. "Our girls have youth, accomplishments, money--everything to fit them for social triumphs. The winter season is now approaching; the people are flocking back to town from their country homes; fashionable gaieties and notable events will soon hold full sway. The dear girls are surely entitled to enjoy these things, don't you think? Aren't they worthy the best that life has to offer? And why shouldn't they enter society, if you do your full duty? Once get them properly introduced and they will be able to hold their own with perfect ease. Give me the credit for knowing these things, John, and try to help your nieces to attain their ambition."
"But is it their ambition?" he asked, doubtfully.
"They have not said so in words; but I can assure you it is their ambition, because all three are sensible, spirited, young women, who live in this age and not the one you yourself knew a half century or so ago."
Mr. Merrick sighed and rubbed his head again. Then he slowly rose.
"Mornin', Martha," he said, with a somewhat abstracted nod at his sister-in-law. "This is a new idea to me. I'll think it over."
CHAPTER II
A QUESTION OF "PULL"
John Merrick's face was not so cheery as usual as he made his way into the city. This suggestion of Martha Merrick's regarding his inattention to duty to his beloved nieces was no easy nut to crack.
He knew his sister-in-law to be a wordly-minded, frivolous woman, with many trivial ambitions; but in this instance he had misgivings that she might be right. What did he, John Merrick, know of select society? A poor man, of humble origin, he had wandered into the infantile, embryo West years ago and there amassed a fortune. When he retired and returned to "civilization" he found his greatest reward In the discovery of three charming nieces, all "as poor as Job's turkey" but struggling along bravely, each in her individual characteristic way, and well worthy their doting uncle's affectionate admiration. Mrs. Merrick had recited some of the advantages they had derived from the advent of this rich relative; but even she could not guess how devoted the man was to the welfare of these three fortunate girls, nor how his kindly, simple heart resented the insinuation that he was neglecting anything that