A PROVIDENTIAL AUNT.

Otago Witness, Issue 3415, 29 August 1919, Page 66

A PROVIDENTIAL AUNT.

By Mrs H. H. Penrose. (Copyright.) George Lascelles was at the end of his tether, and that by no fault of his own. Only a few months ago his father had left him a heavily-mortgaged property, and departed to the region where it is popularly supposed that creditors cease from troubling and debtors are at rest. The elder Lascelles had left a wife and two particularly helpless daughters, whose support devolved upon George, and none of these ladies had the least idea of doing anything to lessen the burden. They were not selfish, nor intentionally idle; they were merely helpless. In theory ' they were quite ready to devote themselves to dear George; in practice they were absolutely incapable of doing anything more useful than making themselves look nice. George was in the army, and loved his profession, and his heart was heavy with the thought of being obliged to give it up. The girls wept over the prospect, but it did not occur to them that they might obviate the necessity. Mrs Lascelles was in despair, and wished all sorts of things; but she could no more strive towards the fulfilment of her wishes than she could journey to the moon on a broomstick. The decisive step had not yet been taken, and George had got a week's leave, to spend at home, for the purpose of advising his mother with regard to the choice of a small house. It was the day after his arrival, and a wonderful letter had just been read aloud at the breakfast table. Mrs Lascelles's only sister had married a rich American named Jabez E. Shorter, and died childless. The Lascelles children had been instructed to call this gentleman "Uncle Shorter," to keep him supplied with photographs of themselves, taken at various stages of growth, to make'him little presents on his birthday, and to send him cards at Christmas and Easter. His disposition towards them appeared to be very friendly, and results were taken for granted; but years before this time _ he. had returned to America, and xnarried one of his own countrywomen. ~ He was an elderly man then, and disinclined to mingle old interests with new, so the old were dropped, the new reigned paramount, and the Lascelles heard from him no more. They were notified of his death in due time, and Mrs Lascelles wrote as kindly as she could in the circumstances to condole with his widow; but that had happened a year ago, and until to-day-no news of the widow had been received. Now Mrs Jabez Shorter had written, and Mrs Lascelles was purring over the letter. The widow held out hopes.. " I should like to see your boy. Poor Jabez took a great interest in him, and I have no children of mv own. Please send him to me quite alone. If I don't like him I shall return him safely." She gave the address of a small private hotel at Bournemouth, and filled up the remainder of her sheet of notepaper with a few polite remarks about England. i " Your troubles are over, George," said *Marian, the younger sister. "What, a providential aunt!" "She will ' take you in and do for you,' " said Gladys, the elder, facetiously. These young women, although unable to "do for" themselves or anvone else, had a very fair understanding of the meaning of "an eye to the main chance." "Things don't often happen so appropriately," she added. "Marian has provided Mrs Jabez Shorter with a really well-chosen name. We shall always call her 'The Providential Aunt.' " "As a matter of fact, she isn't our aunt at all," George objected. " Don't adopt that attitude, whatever you do," entreated Mrs Lascelles. "Call hei\ ' aunt' continually. I never heard her Christian name, but if you can find it out quickly call her ' Aunt Deborah' or 'Aunt Martha/ as the case may be. It will sound more friendly than 'Aunt Shorter.' " "Yes," said Gladys, adhering to the main issue, " be sure to make her feel that you . regard her as a real relation. One doesn't know how many thousands may depend on it." "I wonder what she is like," babbled Mrs Lascelles. " Old, of course, as there were no children, and she speaks of George as a. mereTjoy— compared with herself naturally. Jabez was nearly seventy when he died. Allow that she was ten years younger than he, that would make her at least sixty now—older than I am, George, you see, so it is no wonder she calls you a boy." " I. suppose she wears caps and grey side curls like—who is the woman? Some American celebrity," observed Marian vaguely, " George, you are a very lucky man. 'Make the most of your prospects." i " You forget," said George, " that I may be returned with thanks." But, notwithstanding this possibility, he looked remarkably cheerful as he drove to the railway station later in the day, and still more cheerful when he reached Bournemouth. There was a large garden surrounding the boarding-house to which Mrs Jabez Shorter had directed him to come, and a lady was walking about among the lilacs and syringas, followed by a littib dog of forbidding appearance. , . ~ , My lady was very slight and girlishlooking, dressed in a soft white gown with black "ribbons here and ther* and carryin°- a daintv sunshade to supply the place hat "which she had evidently ■ left indoors. Her fair hair rippled 'and curled entrancingly about her broad forehead, and she had the most mischievous bkie eyes in the world. The dog was not one meriting a very particular description: His strong point was the uncompromising attitude which he generally assumed on first acquaintance. Directly George opened the gate the animal rushed towards him with a great show of ferocity, making a very noisy pretence that he meant to devour the stranger on the spot. He really had no such intention, merely desiring to inspire proper re-

spect; but lie had seldom found himself understood as this man appeared to understand him.- " Don't imagine I'm afraid of you," said George, " and please keep away from my feet or you may get trodden on." ■ The confident tone acted like magic, and the dog was wagging his tail before his mistress had time to call him off. Nevertheless she came forward and apologised with infinite graciousness, and George found himself wondering if he had ever seen a prettier face, and concluding that he had not. "■■ . " Test is real mean to most people," she explained. "I call him Test because anyone he makes friends with is sure to be the right sort." 'lt must be nice to possess a dog who is such an unfailing judge of character," said George, reflecting even as he spoke. He hoped she would give him an excuse to prolong the interview, and experienced a most unreasonable delight when he found that she was not averse to conversation. "That is so," she answered. "I find him real useful. I have him out here with me to-day on purpose, because I * am expecting a visit from a big schoolboy, and I presume Test will tell me what to think of him faster than I can find out for myself. The boy is a stranger, and I -don't want to have' anything to do with, him if he's ugly." She used this word in the sense of unamiable, and George understood as much from the context. "I suppose you wouldn't lebd him to me," said George, with the smile for which he was justly celebrated. "I, too, " am just going to meet someone for the first time, and I should like to apply the Test. Perhaps you know the lady I am in search of as you are staying here, and she is one of your countrywomen." " May I ask what country you reckon I belong to?" . . "The finest in the world," said George promptly, atoning for his indiscretion—- " America. An Englishwoman can't pass herself off as an American by any possibility, you know.'' The girl in white appeared to be satisfied, but ignored the implied compliment. " Who is the lady you are looking for?" she asked, with polite indifference. "My aunt, Mrs Jabez Shorter. An elderly lady, I believe. Do you know her?" ■ - " Why, yes, certainly. But she's not expecting you, is she?""I believe she is. At least she invited me to visit her. My name is George Lascelles. She has not, perhaps, mentioned me to you?" The girl's face crimsoned. " Test," she said, "we may as well go indoors. There's no schoolboy coming today. Mr Lascelles, lam the old lady you have come to see —your, aunt, Mrs Jabez Shorter." It was George who crimsoned now, and lost his presence of mind. " Good heavens," he exclaimed. *.' Can you explain it?" She could —and did in the course of the evening. At eighteen she had been persuaded into marrying Jabez Shorter, and she had made him a good wife until the day of their mutual release. He had spoken little to her of his English connections, but she had put two and together for herself, gathering that expectations had been raised and disappointed, and she knew that if Jabez had not married again George Lascelles would have been his heir. Concerning George personally, she had known as little as it was possible to know, \ and the only photograph of him that Jabez had ever shown her represented a boy of ten in. an Eton iacket. During the early days of her widowhood she became possessed by a desire to offer compensation to this unknown English boy, and finally decided to see for herself whether he was worth all she thought of doing for him. Hence her letter to Mrs Lascelles, and George's arrival on the scene. George got an extension of leave, pleading urgent private business, and a fortnight later he was still arguing with Jabez Shorter's widow about the impossibility of his accepting from her any of the "compensation" she had intended to bestow. They.were out again among the lilaces aiid syringas, and Test was • fawning round George s legs. "It if perfectly absurd," said The Providential Aunt, "that you should have -any scruples about it. Ypu have confessed to me that your career is at stake," "I know," said George," but there are some things more important than even a career. It was impossible the day I first met you. It is ten times more impossible to-day." "Why?" she asked, understanding perfectly. " Because I love you." " I guess that reason isn't good enough. If you loved me you would want to please me. Now, if I loved you— —" " Well, what would you do?" His voice was very unsteady. " I would marry you—if you asked me." And that was how George Lascelles made the most of his prospects with "The Providential Aunt."