Sheba Blake - Aunt Jane's Nieces at Work

Her new surroundings, however, had developed Beth’s character wonderfully, and although she still had her periods of sullen depression she was generally as gay and lovable as her two cousins, but in a quieter and more self-possessed way.

Louise was the eldest—a fair, dainty creature with that indescribable “air” which invariably wins the admiring regard of all beholders. Whatever gown the girl wore looked appropriate and becoming, and her manner was as delightful as her appearance. She was somewhat frivolous and designing in character, but warm-hearted and staunch in her friendships. Indeed, Louise was one of those girls who are so complex as to be a puzzle to everyone, including themselves.

Beth DeGraf was the beauty of the group of three, and she also possessed great depth of character. Beth did not like herself very well, and was always afraid others would fail to like her, so she did not win friends as easily as did Louise. But those who knew the beautiful girl intimately could read much to admire in the depth of her great dark eyes, and she was not the least interesting of the three nieces whose fortunes had been so greatly influenced by Aunt Jane and Uncle John Merrick.

But Patricia Doyle—usually called “Patsy” by her friends—was after all the general favorite with strangers and friends alike. There was a subtle magnetism about the girl’s laughing, freckled face and dancing blue eyes that could not well be resisted. Patsy was not beautiful; she was not accomplished; she had no especial air of distinction. But she was winning from the top of her red hair to the tips of her toes, and so absolutely unaffected that she won all hearts.

“And for wisdom she’s got Solomon beat to a frazzle,” declared the Major to Uncle John, in discussing his daughter’s character. But it is possible that Major Doyle was prejudiced.

“Well, what’s to be done?” demanded Louise, for the second time.

“We don’t vote in Ken’s district,” remarked the Major, “or there would be six votes to his credit, and that would beat my own record by four!”

“Ken is so impressionable that I’m afraid this defeat will ruin his life,” said Beth, softly. “I wish we could get him away. Couldn’t we get him to withdraw?”

“He might be suddenly called to Europe,” suggested Louise. “That would take him away from the place and give him a change of scene.”

Patsy shook her head.

“Kenneth isn’t a coward,” she said. “He won’t run away. He must accept his defeat like a man, and some time try again. Eh, Uncle John?”

Uncle John turned around and regarded his three nieces critically.

“What makes you think he will be defeated?” he asked.

“He says so himself,” answered Patsy.

“He writes me he can see no hope, for the people are all against him,” added Louise.

“Pah!” said Uncle John, contemptuously. “What else does the idiot say?”

“That he’s lonely and discouraged, and had to pour out his heart to some one or go wild,” said Patsy, the tears of sympathy filling her eyes.

“And you girls propose to sit down and allow all this?” inquired their uncle sternly.

“We?” answered Louise, lifting her brows and making a pretty gesture. “What can we do?”

“Go to work!” said Uncle John.

“How?” asked Patsy, eagerly.

“Politics is a game,” declared Mr. Merrick. “It’s never won until the last card is played. And success doesn’t lie so much in the cards as the way you play ‘em. Here are three girls with plenty of shrewdness and energy. Why don’t you take a hand in the game and win it?”

“Oh, Uncle John!”

The proposition was certainly disconcerting at first.

“Yes, yes!” laughed the Major, derisively. “Put on some blue stockings, read the history of woman’s suffrage, cultivate a liking for depraved eggs, and then face Kenneth’s enraged constituents!”

“I shouldn’t mind, daddy, if it would help Kenneth any,” declared Patsy, stoutly.

“Go on, Uncle John,” said Beth, encouragingly.

“Women in politics,” observed their uncle, “have often been a tremendous power. You won’t need to humiliate yourselves, my dears. All you’ll need to do is to exercise your wits and work earnestly for the cause. There are a hundred ways to do that.”

“Mention a few,” proposed the Major.

“I will when I get to Elmhurst and look over the ground,” answered Uncle John.

“You’re going on, then?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll go with you,” said Patsy promptly.

“So will I,” said Beth. “Kenneth needs moral encouragement and support as much as anything else, just now.”

“He’s imagining all sorts of horrors and making himself miserable,” said Louise. “Let’s all go, Uncle, and try to cheer him up.”

By this time Uncle John was smiling genially.

“Why, I was sure of you, my dears, from the first,” he said. “The Major’s an old croaker, but he’d go, too, if it were not necessary for him to stay in New York and attend to business. But we mustn’t lose any time, if we’re going to direct the politics of the Eighth District Election the eighth of November.”

“I can go any time, and so can Beth,” said Louise.

“All I need is the blue stockings,” laughed Patsy.

“It won’t be play. This means work,” said Uncle John seriously.

“Well, I believe we’re capable of a certain amount of work,” replied Beth. “Aren’t we, girls?”

“We are!”

“All right,” said Mr. Merrick. “I’ll go and look up the next train. Go home, Louise, and pack up. I’ll telephone you.”

“That bad man ‘d better look out,” chuckled the Major. “He doesn’t suspect that an army of invasion is coming.”

“Daddy,” cried Patsy, “you hush up. We mean business.”

“If you win,” said the Major, “I’ll run for alderman on a petticoat platform, and hire your services.”

To most people the great rambling mansion at Elmhurst, with its ample grounds and profusion of flowers and shrubbery, would afford endless delight. But Kenneth Forbes, the youthful proprietor, was at times dreadfully bored by the loneliness of it all, though no one could better have appreciated the beauties of his fine estate.

The town, an insignificant village, was five miles distant, and surrounding the mansion were many broad acres which rather isolated it from its neighbors. Moreover, Elmhurst was the one important estate in the county, and the simple, hard-working farmers in its vicinity considered, justly enough, that the owner was wholly out of their class.

This was not the owner’s fault, and Kenneth had brooded upon the matter until he had come to regard it as a distinct misfortune. For it isolated him and deprived him of any social intercourse with his neighbors.

The boy had come to live at Elmhurst when he was a mere child, but only as a dependent upon the charities of Aunt Jane, who had accepted the charge of the orphan because he was a nephew of her dead lover, who had bequeathed her his estate of Elmhurst. Aunt Jane was Kenneth’s aunt merely in name, since she had never even married the uncle to whom she had been betrothed, and who had been killed in an accident before the boy was born.

She was an irritable old woman, as Kenneth knew her, and had never shown him any love or consideration. He grew up in a secluded corner of the great house, tended merely by servants and suffered to play in those quarters of the ample grounds which Aunt Jane did not herself visit. The neglect which Kenneth had suffered and his lonely life had influenced the youth’s temperament, and he was far from being an agreeable companion at the time Aunt Jane summoned her three nieces to Elmhurst in order to choose one of them as her heiress. These girls, bright, cheery and wholesome as they were, penetrated the boy’s reserve and drew him out of his misanthropic moods. They discovered that he had remarkable talent as an artist, and encouraged him to draw and paint, something he had long loved to do in secret.