L. Frank Baum - Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad

Uncle John laughed. In the days when Major Doyle had thought him a poor man and in need of a helping hand, the grizzled old Irishman had been as tender toward him as a woman and studiously avoided any speech or epithet that by chance might injure the feelings of his dead wife’s only brother. But the Major’s invariable courtesy to the poor or unfortunate was no longer in evidence when he found that John Merrick was a multi-millionaire with a strongly defined habit of doing good to others and striving in obscure and unconventional ways to make everybody around him happy. His affection for the little man increased mightily, but his respectful attitude promptly changed, and a chance to reprove or discomfit his absurdly rich brother-in-law was one of his most satisfactory diversions. Uncle John appreciated this, and holding the dignified Major in loving regard was glad to cross swords with him now and then to add variety to their pleasant relations.

“It’s this way, Major Doyle,” he now remarked, coolly. “I’ve been worried to death, lately, over business matters; and I need a change.”

“Phoo! All your business is attended to by Isham, Marvin & Co. You’ve no worry at all. Why, we’ve just made you a quarter of a million in C.H. & D’s.”

The “we” is explained by stating that the Major held an important position in the great banking house—a position Mr. Merrick had secured for him some months previously.

“That’s it!” said Uncle John. “You’ve made me a quarter of a million that I don’t want. The C.H. & D. stocks were going to pieces when I bought them, and I had reason to hope I’d lose a good round sum on them. But the confounded luck turned, and the result is an accumulation of all this dreadful money. So, my dear Major, before I’m tempted to do some-other foolish thing I’ve determined to run away, where business can’t follow me, and where by industry and perseverance I can scatter some of my ill-gotten gains.”

The Major smiled grimly.

“That’s Europe, right enough,” he said. “And I don’t object, John, to your going there whenever you please. You’re disgracefully countryfied and uninformed for a man of means, and Europe’ll open your eyes and prove to you how insignificant you really are. I advise you to visit Ireland, sor, which I’m reliably informed is the centhral jewel in Europe’s crown of beauty. Go; and go whinever you please, sor; but forbear the wickedness of putting foolish thoughts into our Patsy’s sweet head. She can’t go a step, and you know it. It’s positive cruelty to her, sir, to suggest such a thing!”

The Major’s speech had a touch of the brogue when he became excited, but recovered when he calmed down.

“Why, you selfish old humbug!” cried Uncle John, indignantly. “Why can’t she go, when there’s money and time to spare? Would you keep her here to cuddle and spoil a vigorous man like yourself, when she can run away and see the world and be happy?”

“It’s a great happiness to cuddle the Major,” said Patsy, softly; “and the poor man needs it as much as he does his slippers or his oatmeal for breakfast.”

“And Patsy has the house to look after,” added the Major, complacently.

Uncle John gave a snort of contempt.

“For an unreasonable man, show me an Irishman,” he remarked. “Here you’ve been telling me how Europe is an education and a delight, and in the next breath you deliberately deprive your little daughter, whom you pretend to love, of the advantages she might gain by a trip abroad! And why? Just because you want her yourself, and might be a bit lonesome without her. But I’ll settle that foolishness, sir, in short order. You shall go with us.”

“Impossible!” ejaculated the Major. “It’s the time of year I’m most needed in the office, and Mr. Marvin has been so kind and considerate that I won’t play him a dirty trick by leaving him in the lurch.”

Patsy nodded approval.

“That’s right, daddy,” she said.

Uncle John lay back in the chair and put the newspaper over his face again. Patsy and her father stared at one another with grave intentness. Then the Major drew out his handkerchief and mopped his brow.

“You’d like to go, mavourneen?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, daddy; but I won’t, of course.”

“Tut-tut! don’t you go putting yourself against your old father’s will, Patsy. It’s not so far to Europe,” he continued, thoughtfully, “and you won’t be away much longer than you were when you went to Elmhurst after Aunt Jane’s money—which you didn’t get. Mary takes fine care of our little rooms, and doubtless I shall be so busy that I won’t miss you at all, at all.”

“Daddy!”

She was in his lap, now, her chubby arms clasped around his neck and her soft cheek laid close beside his rough and ruddy one.

“And when ye get back, Patsy darlin’,” he whispered, tenderly stroking her hair, “the joy of the meeting will make up for all that we’ve suffered. It’s the way of life, mavourneen. Unless a couple happens to be Siamese twins, they’re bound to get separated in the course of events, more or less, if not frequently.”

“I won’t go, daddy.”

“Oh, yes you will. It’s not like you to be breakin’ my heart by stayin’ home. Next week, said that wicked old uncle—he remoinds me of the one that tried to desthroy the Babes in the Woods, Patsy dear. You must try to reclaim him to humanity, for I’m hopin’ there’s a bit of good in the old rascal yet.” And he looked affectionately at the round little man under the newspaper.

Uncle John emerged again. It was wonderful how well he understood the Doyle family. His face was now smiling and wore a look of supreme satisfaction.

“Your selfishness, my dear Major,” said he, “is like the husk on a cocoanut. When you crack it there’s plenty of milk within—and in your case it’s the milk of human kindness. Come! let’s talk over the trip.”

“The thought came to me a long time ago,” Uncle John resumed; “but it was only yesterday that I got all the details fixed and settled in my mind. I’ve been a rough old duffer, Patsy, and in all my hard working life never thought of such a thing as travelling or enjoying myself until I fell in with you, and you taught me how pleasant it is to scatter sunshine in the hearts of others. For to make others happy means a lot of joy for yourself—a secret you were trying to keep from me, you crafty young woman, until I discovered it by accident. Now, here I am with three nieces on my hands—”

“You may say two, sir,” interrupted the Major. “Patsy can take care of herself.”

“Hold your tongue,” said Uncle John. “I say I’ve got three nieces—as fine a trio of intelligent, sweet and attractive young women as you’ll run across in a month of Sundays. I dare you to deny it, sir. And they are all at an age when an European trip will do them a world of good. So off we go, a week from Tuesday, in the first-class steamer ‘Princess Irene,’ bound from New York for the Bay of Naples!”

Patsy’s eyes showed her delight. They fairly danced.

“Have you told Beth and Louise?” she asked.

His face fell.

“Not yet,” he said. “I’d forgotten to mention it to them.”

“For my part,” continued the girl, “I can get ready in a week, easily. But Beth is way out in Ohio, and we don’t know whether she can go or not.”

“I’ll telegraph her, and find out,” said Uncle John.

“Do it to-day,” suggested the Major.