CHAPTER VII.
THE FIRST WARNING.
For a day or two Jane Merrick seemed to improve in health. Indeed,Martha Phibbs declared her mistress was better than she had been forweeks. Then, one night, the old attendant was awakened by a scream,and rushed to her mistress' side.
"What is it, ma'am?" she asked, tremblingly.
"My leg! I can't move my leg," gasped the mistress of Elmhurst. "Rubit, you old fool! Rub it till you drop, and see if you can bring backthe life to it."
Martha rubbed, of course, but the task was useless. Oscar the groomwas sent on horseback for the nearest doctor, who came just as daywas breaking. He gave the old woman a brief examination and shook hishead.
"It's the first warning," said he; "but nothing to be frightenedabout. That is, for the present."
"Is it paralysis?" asked Jane Merrick.
"Yes; a slight stroke."
"But I'll have another?"
"Perhaps, in time."
"How long?"
"It may be a week--or a month--or a year. Sometimes there isnever another stroke. Don't worry, ma'am. Just lie still and becomfortable."
"Huh!" grunted the old woman. But she became more composed and obeyedthe doctor's instructions with unwonted meekness. Silas Watson arrivedduring the forenoon, and pressed her thin hand with real sympathy,for these two were friends despite the great difference in theirtemperaments.
"Shall I draw your will, Jane?" he asked. "No!" she snapped. "I'm notgoing to die just yet, I assure you. I shall live to carry out myplans, Silas."
She did live, and grew better as the days wore on, although she neverrecovered the use of the paralyzed limb.
Each day Phibbs drew the invalid chair to the porch and old Jameslifted it to the garden walk, where his mistress might enjoy theflowers he so carefully and skillfully tended. They seldom spoketogether, these two; yet there seemed a strange bond of sympathybetween them.
At last the first of July arrived, and Oscar was dispatched to therailway station, four miles distant, to meet Miss Elizabeth DeGraf, the first of the nieces to appear in answer to Jane Merrick'sinvitation.
Beth looked very charming and fresh in her new gown, and she greetedher aunt with a calm graciousness that would have amazed the professorto behold. She had observed carefully the grandeur and beauty ofElmhurst, as she drove through the grounds, and instantly decided theplace was worth an effort to win.
"So, this is Elizabeth, is it?" asked Aunt June, as the girl stoodbefore her for inspection. "You may kiss me, child."
Elizabeth advanced, striving to quell the antipathy she felt to kissthe stern featured, old woman, and touched her lips to the wrinkledforehead.
Jane Merrick laughed, a bit sneeringly, while Beth drew back, stillcomposed, and looked at her relative enquiringly.
"Well, what do you think of me?" demanded Aunt Jane, as if embarrassedat the scrutiny she received.
"Surely, it is too early to ask me that," replied Beth, gently. "I amgoing to try to like you, and my first sight of my new aunt leads meto hope I shall succeed."
"Why shouldn't you like me?" cried the old woman. "Why must you try tolike your mother's sister?"
Beth flushed. She had promised herself not to become angry ordiscomposed, whatever her aunt might say or do; but before she couldcontrol herself an indignant expression flashed across her face andJane Merrick saw it.
"There are reasons," said Beth, slowly, "why your name is seldommentioned in my father's family. Until your letter came I scarcelyknew I possessed an aunt. It was your desire we should become betteracquainted, and I am here for that purpose. I hope we shall becomefriends, Aunt Jane, but until then, it is better we should not discussthe past."
The woman frowned. It was not difficult for her to read the characterof the child before her, and she knew intuitively that Beth wasstrongly prejudiced against her, but was honestly trying not to allowthat prejudice to influence her. She decided to postpone furtherinterrogations until another time.
"Your journey has tired you," she said abruptly. "I'll have Miseryshow you to your room."
She touched a bell beside her.
"I'm not tired, but I'll go to my room, if you please," answered Beth,who realized that she had in some way failed to make as favorable animpression as she had hoped. "When may I see you again?"
"When I send for you," snapped Aunt Jane, as the housekeeper entered."I suppose you know I am a paralytic, and liable to die at any time?"
"I am very sorry," said Beth, hesitatingly. "You do not seem veryill."
"I'm on my last legs. I may not live an hour. But that's none of yourbusiness, I suppose. By the way, I expect your cousin on the afternoontrain."
Beth gave a start of surprise.
"My cousin?" she asked.
"Yes, Louise Merrick."
"Oh!" said Beth, and stopped short.
"What do you mean by that?" enquired Aunt Jane, with a smile that wasrather malicious.
"I did not know I had a cousin," said the girl. "That is," correctingherself, "I did not know whether Louise Merrick was alive or not.Mother has mentioned her name once or twice in my presence; but notlately."
"Well, she's alive. Very much alive, I believe. And she's coming tovisit me, while you are here. I expect you to be friends."
"To be sure," said Beth, nevertheless discomfited at the news.
"We dine at seven," said Aunt Jane. "I always lunch in my own room,and you may do the same," and with a wave of her thin hand shedismissed the girl, who thoughtfully followed the old housekeeperthrough the halls.
It was not going to be an easy task to win this old woman's affection.Already she rebelled at the necessity of undertaking so distasteful aventure and wondered if she had not made a mistake in trying to curbher natural frankness, and to conciliate a creature whose very natureseemed antagonistic to her own. And this new cousin, Louise Merrick,why was she coming to Elmhurst? To compete for the prize Beth hadalready determined to win? In that case she must consider carefullyher line of action, that no rival might deprive her of this greatestate. Beth felt that she could fight savagely for an object she somuch desired. Her very muscles hardened and grew tense at the thoughtof conflict as she walked down the corridor in the wake of old Miserythe housekeeper. She had always resented the sordid life at Cloverton.She had been discontented with her lot since her earliest girlhood,and longed to escape the constant bickerings of her parents and theirvain struggles to obtain enough money to "keep up appearances" anddrive the wolf from the door. And here was an opportunity to win afortune and a home beautiful enough for a royal princess. All that wasnecessary was to gain the esteem of a crabbed, garrulous old woman,who had doubtless but a few more weeks to live. It must be done,in one way or another; but how? How could she out-wit this unknowncousin, and inspire the love of Aunt Jane?
"If there's any stuff of the right sort in my nature," decided thegirl, as she entered her pretty bedchamber and threw herself into achair, "I'll find a way to win out. One thing is certain--I'll neveragain have another chance at so fine a fortune, and if I fail to getit I shall deserve to live in poverty forever afterward."
Suddenly she noticed the old housekeeper standing before her andregarding her with a kindly interest. In an instant she sprang up,threw her arms around Misery and kissed her furrowed cheek.
"Thank you for being so kind," said she. "I've never been away fromhome before and you must be a mother to me while I'm at Elmhurst."
Old Misery smiled and stroked the girl's glossy head.
"Bless the child!" she said, delightedly; "of course I'll be a motherto you. You'll need a bit of comforting now and then, my dear, ifyou're going to live with Jane Merrick."
"Is she cross?" asked Beth, softly.
"At times she's a fiend," confided the old housekeeper, in almost awhisper. "But don't you mind her tantrums, or lay 'em to heart, andyou'll get along with her all right."
"Thank you," said the girl. "I'll try not to mind."
"Do you need
anything else, deary?" asked Misery, with a glance aroundthe room.
"Nothing at all, thank you."
The housekeeper nodded and softly withdrew.
"That was one brilliant move, at any rate," said Beth to herself, asshe laid aside her hat and prepared to unstrap her small trunk. "I'vemade a friend at Elmhurst who will be of use to me; and I shall makemore before long. Come as soon as you like, Cousin Louise! You'll haveto be more clever than I am, if you hope to win Elmhurst."
Aunt Jane's Nieces Page 7
