Complete Story. Uncle Ben and Uncle Peter.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXVIII, Issue VIII, 22 February 1902, Page 342

Complete Story. Uncle Ben and Uncle Peter.

A STORY OF A STRUGGLE FOR A SON4N.LAW,

Mr Spencer was a business-like man. and he. looked on love-making in a business-like manner. So it came about that he expressed himself one evening to his wife: — “Well, the sooner they get it over the better.”

“They” constituted his daughter Mary and young Robert Binnie, who had been formally engaged now for the past two years, quite time enough in Mr Spencer’s opinion. He had his eve on the gas bills and other little items which helped to increase the household expenditure owing to Mr I’innie's frequent visits; for Robert lived in lodgings, his parents being dead, and couldn’t for the appearance of the thing entertain Mary there any more than he could for ever be strolling round the parks with her. ■•Yes." said Mr Spencer. “It certainly is time Bob asked Mary to name the day if he really means business. Unless he does so pretty quickly I shall have to gently hint the matter and hurry up proceedinga little.” . So a few nights later he hinted in his usual bluff manner: he asked Bob straight out when he might have the pleasure of really including him as a relative in the family circle. Bob hummed and hawed a little, so his prospective father-in-law decided to help him. He hoped it wasn t monetary reasons that were delaying the wedding.” "Well,” said Bob, “it is, and it isn’t. Personally, I’m quite ready, and I’ve money; but you know, Mr Spencer, there’s iny old uncle. He’s enormously wealthy, got tons of cash, and I’m liis only relative, consequently, that fortune’s coming to me.” "Yes; that’s all the more reason why you should marry,” said Mr Spencer. “Naturally; but you see, Uncle Peter, he’s a bit of a woman-hater. ‘Bobby, my boy,’ are his words to me, whenever 1 go to see him, ‘beware of woman. Never get married.’ And do you know, 1 think if he imagined 1 was engaged, he would alter his will a t once.” •“Then you've got to wait until he’s dead?” “Yes,” sighed Bob. “I’m afraid it’s that, or marry and miss a fortune. But,” with a cheerful smile; “he can’t last much longer. He is over seventylive, and suffers with chronic asthma; that’s why he lives in the country. A London fog would kill him.” “I suppose you couldn’t g'et him to come and live in London for a winter?” Mr Spencer suggested. “It’s a bit rough on Mary, you know.” “Oh, I’ve fully explained it all to her,” Bob said, cheerfully, “and she has agreed to wait.” Mr Spencer sighed. Under the circumstances there was nothing to do but. wait, though he hoped Uncle Peter would soon finish his career on earth, not because, as he put it, he wished him any harm, but he would lik- to see other people happy. The months flew by. Uncle Peter still lived; indeed, according to Bob. he seemed to be improving in health, and with it to get more antagonistic towards the tender sex. Spencer was tired of waiting for him to die. Mary was wishing he would make haste, and even Bob found himself wondering now and then bow much longer Uncle Peter intended prolonging his stay. A year passed, and Mr Spencer had agreed with his better-half that it really was time, uncle or no uncle, and fortune or no fortune, Bob and Mary should be married. “But it’s useless to hint the idea to Bob,” he said. The only thing 1 think that would work him, would be a fortune on Mary’s side, accompanied by coolness on her part.”

And it was this that brought Uncle Benjamin into Mary had been more than usually annoyed with Bob one night, lor he had,a growing suspicion that she was flirting just a little with another ycung man. “And what if 1 have?” she asked, "'•erhaps he isn’t wai..ng for someone to die.” Bob felt hurt. "I’m not going to wait much longer myself,” she went on. “I’m willing 11 * take you, money or no money, Bob. so you can make your mind up pretty quickly. When Robert arrived at her abode it was to learn another startling piece of information. Mr Spencer’s brother Ben, who had gone to Australia fifteen years ago, was coming home with a fortune. He had never been heard of for all those years, and the family had thought him dead; but here he was with a big fortune returning home, and going to bestow a large sum on “little Mary.” “Ah,” said Mr Spencer, “she was little in those days, and he loved her like his own child. While the conversation was in progress in dropped young Mr Springs, the man of whom Bob was jealous; and the longer he waited watching his Mary absolutely making love to his rival the madder Bob grew. Going sadly home that night he thought the matter well over. He loved Mary, and but for his “confounded old uncle” would marry her, but then there was Uncle Peter’s fortune to consider. The more he thought the more undecided he became as to what step lie would take. At length he determined to pay his unele a visit, and gently sound him on the woman question. He went and sounded, and was by no means made the more cheerful. "If ever you get married, Bob,” said Uncle Peter, “never a penny of my money do you see. At least, if you get married while I’m alive, my lad. When I am gone you can make as big a fool of yourself as you choose.” So he returned disheartened, and perched himself disconsolately on the fence which divides matrimony from single blessedness. When he went round to the Spencers’, and he went nearly every night, it drove him nigh crazy to have Uncle Benjamin dinned into his ears, and more so to find Mr Springs encouraged there. To Mr Spencer he was a puzzle and a despair. “I don’t believe he’ll ever get married." he said, half savagely, one night in Bob’s absence. “Uncle Benjamin might as well have been left in the land of shadows. To think of the lies we’ve told all to no purpose," and he felt mad enough to forbid Bob the house. "Perhaps if we could only show him Unele Benjamin,” said Mrs Spencer. “If we could get Ben to talk of the fortune—.” “If pigs could fly; if you’d only talk sense, Mrs Spencer,” said her husband, angrily. “How the deuce can you get a man to talk as don't exist? Tell me that.” But she couldn’t. Instead she changed the subject. “Ah. 1 don't think 1 told you. but a gent came after the rooms to-day,” she said. “A nice old gent he seemed. I asked him to call again tomorrow morning when you would be at home, because you settled all the business arrangements, and he said he would.” “Anyway, it will be something." growled Spencer, “if we can let them. Goodness knows they've been empty long enough.

The next morning Mr Spencer received his probable lodger, a nice affable old gent from the country. “I’m not used to staying in places like this,” he confessed. “I prefer hotels, but I’m afraid of the lifts, you read of such terrible accidents; and I can’t climb stairs, my chest is all out of sorts.” Mr. Spencer sympathised with him, and was sure he would find the rooms quite comfortable. They had been newly furnished; and meals could be provided or otherwise. His face fell as his visitor remarked he did not expect to stay longer than a week. The old man examined the apartments carefully, and was particularly struck with a shell, a tiny, pretty seashell he found on a bracket against the wall in the dining-drawing-room. He took it down and looked at it carefully, and as Mrs. Spencer entered the room, explained that he was a conchologist. He remarked on its beauty and peculiarity, and handing it to Mrs. Spencer, thought lie wouldn’t decide about taking the rooms then, but would let them knowlater in the day. And with difficulty he descended the stairs, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Spencer, and the latter, as the old gent politely wished her good-day, dropped the shell slyly into his pocket. “What the—why did you do that?” asked Spencer, aghast, as he closed the door. He's oui’ uncle Benjamin,” she said, with a laugh. “ Quick, follow him and bring him back.” Spencer was down the street on the stranger’s heels in a second. “ Excuse me, sir.” he said, touching his shoulder. The old man turned, frightened. “Why, what—what is it?” he gasped. Well, if you will come back I can explain better." Mr. Spencer answered. “Why? why?” “ You’ve got our shell in your pocket! ” Into his pockets went his hands. “ Why. good gracious me. so 1 have! I thought I put it back on the shelf. My dear sir, accept my apologies, I ” " Look here,” said Spencer, brusquely. “I know this little game. A nice old gent from the country you are. If you are looking for lodg ings you will soon find them in I he police station.” " But, my dear sir. it was a mistake,” the old man urged, with fear in his voice. “ Certainly. I will return with you.” “ Of course,” said Mr. Spencer, when .inside once more. “ this is a very serious thing.” The old man sat on the sofa and looked white. “I used to suffer from kleptomania years ago,” he explained. “ I was specially treated for it and cured, at least, they said 1 was cured, and now I suppose it’s broken out again.” “ Oh, that’s a very fine story, I’m sure.” said Spencer, and his wife and Mary re-echoed the remark. “ I will pay you any sum within reason you like to name,” the old man went on. “ I can assure you I’ve no wish for the shell; it isn't worth twopence.” “Well, put in Mrs. Spencer, “we are not unreasonable people, sir. Il you decided to take our rooms,” and she smiled suggestively. “ But, my dear madam, I couldn’l live here after this; a thief in your eyes! Still, I will pay yon the renl of the rooms and be gone.” “ Oh, no, no; nothing of rhe sort," said Spencer, charging his tone. “ I see, it’s quite a mistake, my dear sir l et the matter drop; consider your self our guest. This is our daughter Mary.” “ My name is Holdsworthy," and the stranger bowed. “Bur I couldn’t trespass on year hospitality, Mr. Spencer.” “ As a favour only, Mr. Holdsworthy. I am a generous man, sir. We will say nothing about the shell if ” and he coughed suggestively and he talked so glibly that he at length induced Mr. Holdsworthy to remain. And later, talking, he poured into Ins ears the stories of his woes con cerning his prospective son-in-law. who would not marry. It’s only Uncle Benjamin who’s

missing,” he said, sadly. “ Now, if you were Uncle Benjamin; if y»u talked like a loving uncle to our daughter, and as one of the family to us; spoke of your wealth, and how much you are going to leave Mary, why, the thing would be done. Bob would propose right away, I’m sure.” “But he’d probably lose his uncle’s fortune.” said the old man. “Oh, I expect his uneel would relent afterwards. Anyway the two would be happy, anil fortune or no fortune I’d like him for a son-in-law.” “Still, it wouldn’t be fair to get him by a trick to release the substance for the shadow. I think I’d rather have nothing to do with the matter.” Mr Spencer’s grief at the apparent failure of his attempt was sincere. “Anyway, what does your daughter say about it?” inquired Holdsworthy. “Oh, she, like yourself, doesn’t think it’s right; but she is my daughter and will do as I wish.” “And what sort of a voting man is this Mr Bob?” “Well, be our uncle and you shall see for yourself,” pleaded Mr Spencer. “Ah, that's his kncck at the door,” as there came a gentle rat-tat. “You will now, won’t you?” “Oh, well, yes,” and the old man smiled knowingly. “Just introduce the young man.” Spencer descended the stairs at double quick speed, fearful lest his wife or daughter should say anything to spoil his plans. “Hullo, Bob!” he cried, cheerfully. “Come upstairs, Uncle Benjamin’s come,” and he caught him by the sleeve of the coat. “Come and be introduced, a jolly old boy, Bob. You’ll like him immensely.” Uncle Benjamin was standing regarding himself in the overmantel when the door opened, and Spencer entered with Bob. “Here we are, Ben,” said Spencer. “This is Bob, Mr Bob Binnie; Bob. my brother Ben. Mary’s uncle.” Uncle Benjamin slowly turned round. ‘ A ery pleased to make your acquaintance Mr—why—why—” and he looked keenly at the young man through his spectacles. “Why, it’s my Uncle Peter,” Bob cried out, falling back in amazement. “And you are the Bob, eh? Well, I’m—” but the old man broke into such a fit of laughing that the tears ran down his cheeks, while Spencer simply sank on the sofa, as limp as a washed out collar. “Well, fortune or no fortune, I’m going to marry Mary now since you know all,” said Bob. “But what licks me is how you got here.” “1 thought there was a woman in it, and eame to see,” said Uncle Peter, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I was going to spend a week in London watching you.” “Andi he came here to look for lodgings,” groaned Spencer. “But how about Uncle Benjamin?” asked Bob. “Let the reader rest content. The farce was explained satisfactorily, and Uncle Peter returned to the country; but not before he had acted as best man to his nephew.