Aunt Janes Nieces in Society | Page 2

they be happier so?"
"Of course. Every true woman longs for social distinction, especially if
it seems difficult to acquire. Nothing is dearer to a girl's heart than to
win acceptance by the right social set. And New York society is the
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