Aunt Jane

“ THE DIPLOMAT Aunt Jane was in her garden, enjoying the flowers. This was her especial garden, surrounded by a high-box hedge, and quite distinct from the vast expanse of shrubbery and flower-beds which lent so much to the beauty of the grounds at Elmhurst. Aunt Jane knew and loved every inch of her property. ”

“ Edith Dalton smiled a faint smile.
Aunt Jane watched it and rocked.
"It's different when you've a good many," she said placidly. "You begin to see what they mean—just plain baby! Not because it's your baby, you know—but what they're like and what they mean."
"They don't mean much of anything, do they—except to cry?" The indifferent look held itself, but something had stirred in it.
"Yes, they cry!" Aunt Jane was silent.... "They cry, good and hard sometimes.... And that means something, too. Folks don't let 'em cry half enough, I think! ”

“ Jane, your sex is a puzzle that ain't worth the trouble solving. You're all alike, and what little I've seen of my nieces convinces me they're regulation females—no better nor worse than their kind."
"Louise seems a capable girl," declared Aunt Jane, musingly. "I didn't care much for her, at first; but she improves on acquaintance. She has been well trained by her mother, and is very ladylike and agreeable."
"She's smarter than the other one, but not so honest," said Uncle
John.
"Beth has no tact at all," replied Aunt Jane. "But then, she's younger than Louise." ”

“ The thin face on the pillow, with the hair drawn tightly back and braided in its two small braids, had somehow a heroic look. There were lines of suffering on the forehead, but the mouth had a touch of something like courage, even in its sleep—as if it would smile, when the next hard thing was over.
Aunt Jane, who had come in silently and stood looking down at it, called it "the woman look."
"They always have it," she sometimes said—"the real ones have it—kind of as if they knew things would come better—if just they could hold on—not give up, or make a fuss or anything—just hold on!" ”

“ Louise spoke as calmly as if she had not mailed Patricia's defiant letter to Aunt Jane, or discovered her cousin's identity in the little hair-dresser from Madame Borne's establishment.
"Has Aunt Jane mentioned her?" continued Beth.
"Not in my presence."
"Then we may conclude she's left out of the arrangement," said Beth, calmly. "And, as I said, Aunt Jane is likely to choose one of us to succeed her at Elmhurst. I hoped I had it all my own way, but it's evident I was mistaken. You'll fight for your chance and fight mighty hard!" ”

“ Aunt Jane sighed. "It doesn't seem right for one person to have everything."
"He'll have to have things—for a while," replied Dr. Carmon. "He'll have to have what he wants—till I find out what's wrong with him.... He wants Miss Canfield—and I can't take the risk of having him upset!" He spoke a little brusquely at the end.
Aunt Jane's feathers ruffled themselves. "I don't know what call he has to expect to have any particular nurse!" she said. "We shall take good care of him, whatever nurse he has!"
"Yes—yes—of course." Dr. Carmon was testy and placating. ”

“ By this time the hearts of Louise and Beth were fluttering with excitement, and even Patsy looked interested. Uncle John sat a little apart, watching them with an amused smile upon his face, and the lawyer sat silent with his eyes fixed upon a pattern in the rug.
"In arriving at a decision, which I may say I have succeeded in doing," continued Aunt Jane, calmly, "I do not claim to have acted with either wisdom or discernment. I have simply followed my own whim, as I have the right to do, and selected the niece I prefer to become my heiress. ”

“ All the faint, sweet sounds that break the stillness of a Sunday in the country came to our ears in gentle symphony,—the lisp of the leaves, the chirp of young chickens lost in the mazes of billowy grass, and the rustle of the silver poplar that turned into a mass of molten silver whenever the breeze touched it.
"When you've lived as long as I have, child," said Aunt Jane presently, "you'll feel that you've lived in two worlds. ”

“ It was not Julian he was thinking of now—with the little smile that kept coming to his lips.
He was smiling at Aunt Jane and her crispness and her goodness and her little managing wilful ways that kept him straight.... He was like a small boy in the very thought of her. A man ought to feel that way toward his wife, he told himself—all men really feel like that! ”

“ As for the woman, she lay with indifferent eyes looking at the white wall of her room and waiting recovery. The only time that the look in the eyes changed was when Aunt Jane appeared in the doorway for a moment, or sat by her bed. Then it would deepen to a question and flicker toward hope.
"Doing well?" Aunt Jane would say. "They give you good things to eat, don't they?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Yes."
"That's right. Eat and sleep. And hope don't hurt—a little of it."
"Aunt Jane?" The voice had a sharp note. The invalid was resting against the pillows that had been raised on the bed. ”

“ Pelton shook her head. "I don't feel as if I could ever be tired any more."
She was dressed in a long blue garment—one of Aunt Jane's wrappers—that enveloped her from head to foot. Her parted hair, smooth and shining, was combed close to her head and she looked very small in the big rocking-chair, but resolute and brave.
Aunt Jane regarded her mildly. "I reckon you'll get around to being tired, after a while—like the rest of us." She glanced at the bowl of forget-me-nots. "You enjoy your flowers, don't you!" ”

“ Aunt Jane's countenance relaxed a trifle. To speak of her broken health always gave her a sort of grim satisfaction.
"I'm dying, as you can plainly see," she announced. "My days are numbered, Louise. If you stay long enough you can gather wild flowers for my coffin." ”

“ Aunt Jane was looking thoughtfully before her. She was thinking of Suite A, perhaps. "It's a good, comfortable room and you get a little sun—along toward sunset." She glanced at the window, where the streak of sunshine was creeping in on the sill, and a little glow came from the sky. "It's a comfortable room—yes."
"The ward would be cheaper," said the woman. She hesitated. "It don't seem quite fair to him—the man that's paying, I mean—not to get along as cheap as we can."
"I wouldn't worry about getting along cheap," said Aunt Jane. "Some folks need one thing, and some another. ”

“ Aunt Jane was a disgrace! And something in her heart ached so with the happiness and the misery of it, that Aunt Jane's lips fell to quivering.... Any woman that had as much as she had to be thankful for, ought to be ashamed!... And what was Herman Medfield? Just a man! But it wasn't Herman Medfield—it was all the repressed heartache of years.... "Women are not fit to live alone!" She had said it many times. But she had not thought of Aunt Jane when she said it. She was superior to such things—with her hospital and her patients and Dr. Carmon— Her thought stopped suddenly—and flashed on.... ”

“ Beth is the most sensible and practical girl I have ever known."
"It may be so," returned Aunt Jane, impatiently; "but I have left each a legacy, Patricia, and you alone are my choice for the mistress of Elmhurst. I told you yesterday I should not try to be just. I mean to leave my property according to my personal desire, and no one shall hinder me." ”

“ Louise had also become, by this time, the managing housekeeper of the establishment, and it was certain that Aunt Jane looked upon her eldest and most competent niece with much favor.
Beth, with all her friends to sing her praises, seemed to make less headway with her aunt than either of the others, and gradually she sank into a state of real despondency.
"I've done the best I could," she wrote her mother, "but I'm not as clever as Louise nor as amusing as Patricia; so Aunt Jane pays little attention to me. She's a dreadful old woman, and I can't bring myself to appear to like her. ”

“ Watson came to me and wouldn't take no for his answer."
"Why did you object to come here?" asked Aunt Jane.
"Well, I didn't know you; and I didn't especially want to know you. Not that I bear grudges, understand, although you've been little of a friend to my folks these past years. But you are rich and proud—and I suspect you're a little cross, Aunt Jane—while we are poor and proud and like to live our lives in our own way."
"Are you a working girl?" enquired Miss Merrick.
"Surely," said Patsy, "and drawing a big lump of salary every Saturday night. ”

“ It was late Monday afternoon that a card was brought to Aunt Jane—a thin, slim bit of card, with correct English lettering in plain type on it.
Aunt Jane read it and glanced up at Miss Murray who was on door duty for the afternoon.
"He's in the front room," said the nurse. "And there's a woman—came the same time but separate. I put her in the back room."
"Tell Miss Crosby and Miss Canfield to be ready to go on duty in Number 5 and Suite A," said Aunt Jane.
She said the last words almost with a sniff. If Aunt Jane had had her way, there would have been no Suite A in the House of Mercy. ”

“ Aunt Jane nodded. "But we don't any of us know just what happens to us." She was looking [Pg 116] down the ward as if she saw something beyond the beds and the sun shining in on them.
The nurse gathered up the bits of leaves and the stems and litter from the floor and table and threw them on the wheel-tray and pushed it from the room.
The children's eyes watched it go and returned to their blossoms.
Jimmie Sullivan had clumped over to Aunt Jane, carrying his carnation. His new leg worked better to-day. He reached up an arm and Aunt Jane bent her ear. ”

“ Aunt Jane stared. Her countenance was subdued. "Well—I don't know as I should call him old!"... She considered it. "I don't believe he's a day over fifty!" she concluded.
"I don't believe he is," assented Miss Canfield. "I should say that's just about what he is—fifty." She gathered up the towels.
Aunt Jane's face was a study. It opened out in little lines of protest—and closed slowly. "Fifty isn't so very old!" she finished mildly.
"Of course not. And he's an active man—for his years." Miss Canfield carried the pile of linen to the cupboard and stowed it away and came back. ”

“ But Beth erroneously judged that the aged and infirm love sober and scholarly books, and picked out a treatise that proved ineffably dull and tedious.
Aunt Jane sniffed, and then smiled slyly and proceeded to settle herself for a nap. If the girl was a fool, let her be properly punished.
Beth read for an hour, uncertain whether her aunt were intensely interested or really asleep. At the end of that dreadful period old Misery entered and aroused the sleeper without ceremony.
"What's the matter?" asked Aunt Jane, querrulously, for she resented being disturbed.
"There's a man to see you, Miss." ”

“ Why you're looking as bright and as bonny as can be. I wouldn't be surprised if you could toddle."
"Not yet," she answered, cheerfully. "But I'm doing finely, Uncle
John, and it won't be long before I can get about as well as ever."
"And to think," said Aunt Jane, bitterly, "that all this trouble was caused by that miserable boy! If I knew where to send him he'd not stay at Elmhurst a day longer."
"Why, he's my best friend, aunt," announced Patsy, quietly. "I don't think I could be happy at Elmhurst without Kenneth."
"He has quite reformed," said Louise, "and seems like a very nice boy." ”

“ She turned her gaze to Aunt Jane as she came in.
"Wa'n't that just like a man!" she said deprecatingly.
"Just like a man," assented Aunt Jane. "One of them senseless things that comes out all right!"
She sat down comfortably by the bed. "Sometimes I think men don't know any more'n big grampuses—they just go blundering along!" She looked benevolently at the row of faces on the blanket.
[Pg 95]
XVI
Half-way down the corridor Aunt Jane encountered Miss Canfield.
The nurse stopped her with a word. "Mr. Medfield keeps asking for you." She raised her chin a little as she spoke. ”

“ The chair adjusted itself—"Was it anything in particular you wanted to ask me about?"
The millionaire's eyes had been resting on the quiet face. They turned away, a little startled. "Why—um—yes! I was thinking—I was thinking—" His eyes fell on the roses and he swept a hand toward them. "These flowers—all of them!" he said.
Aunt Jane turned a little in her chair and beamed. "They look nice, don't they?"
"They're well enough," said Medfield grudgingly. Then—with petulance: "I'm tired of them. I want them taken away—all of them!"
"Sick folks get notions," said Aunt Jane placidly. ”

“ The girl with the gaunt eyes called to her:
"Aunt Jane!" The voice was weak and impatient.
Aunt Jane turned slowly back. She stood by the bed, looking down with a smile.
The girl thrust an impatient hand under her cheek: "Can I hear him in here?" she demanded.
Aunt Jane glanced toward the window.
"The robin? Like enough, if he flies this way. I'll go out and chase him 'round by and by when I get time." ”

“ In a fortnight more Patricia abandoned her chair and took to crutches, on which she hobbled everywhere as actively as the others walked. She affected her cousins' society more, from this time, and Aunt Jane's society less, for she had come to be fond of the two girls who had nursed her so tenderly, and it was natural that a young girl would prefer to be with those of her own age rather than a crabbed old woman like Aunt Jane. ”

“ Then she turned back to report to Herman Medfield in Suite A that Aunt Jane would come when she was not so busy.
Aunt Jane gazed shrewdly over the little bundle of blankets in her arms at Edith Dalton, sitting propped against her pillows and scowling a little discontentedly.
Aunt Jane sat down and undid the blanket. "They're such cute little things," she said. "It don't seem as if there'd ever be enough of him to make a man of, does it!" She held up the coming man in his long white gown. ”