"At first," said Kenneth, "I thought it was Mr. Watson, for he's alway been very good to me; but he says he knows nothing about it. Then I though it might be Uncle John; but Uncle John is too poor to afford such an expensive present."
"I don't believe he has a penny in the world," said Louise, who sat by with some needle-work.
"All he owns," remarked Beth, with a laugh, "is an extra necktie, slightly damaged."
"But he's a dear old man," said Patsy, loyally, "and I'm sure he would have given all those things to Kenneth had he been able."
"Then who was it?" asked the boy.
"Why, Aunt Jane, to be sure," declared Patsy.
The boy scowled, and shook his head.
"She wouldn't do anything to please me, even to save her life," he growled. "She hates me, I know that well enough."
"Oh, no; I'm sure she doesn't," said Patsy. "Aunt Jane has a heap of good in her; but you've got to dig for it, like you do for gold. 'Twould be just like her to make you this present and keep it a secret."
"If she really did it," replied the boy, slowly, "and it seems as if she is the only one. I know who could afford such a gift, it stands to reason that either Uncle John or Mr. Watson asked her to, and she did it to please them. I've lived here for years, and she has never spoken a kindly word to me or done me a kindly act. It isn't likely she'd begin now, is it?"
Unable to make a reassuring reply, Patsy remained silent, and the boy went on with his work. He first outlined the picture in pencil, and then filled it in with water color. They all expressed admiration for the drawing; but the color effect was so horrible that even Patsy found no words to praise it, and the boy in a fit of sudden anger tore the thing to shreds and so destroyed it.
"But I must have my picture, anyhow," said the girl. "Make it in pen and ink or pencil, Ken. and I'm sure it will be beautiful."
"You need instruction, to do water color properly," suggested Louise.
"Then I can never do it," he replied, bitterly. But he adopted Patsy's suggestion and sketched the garden very prettily in pen and ink. By the time the second picture was completed Patsy had received permission to leave her room, which she did in Aunt Jane's second-best wheel chair.
Her first trip was to Aunt Jane's own private garden, where the invalid, who had not seen her niece since the accident, had asked her to come.
Patsy wanted Kenneth to wheel her, but the boy, with a touch of his old surly demeanor, promptly refused to meet Jane Merrick face to face. So Beth wheeled the chair and Louise walked by Patsy's side, and soon the three nieces reached their aunt's retreat.
Aunt Jane was not in an especially amiable mood.
"Well, girl, how do you like being a fool?" she demanded, as Patsy's chair came to a stand just opposite her own.
"It feels so natural that I don't mind it," replied Patsy, laughing.
"You might have killed yourself, and all for nothing," continued the old woman, querulously.
Patsy looked at her pityingly. Her aunt's face had aged greatly in the two weeks, and the thin gray hair seemed now almost white.
"Are you feeling better, dear?" asked the girl.
"I shall never be better," said Jane Merrick, sternly. "The end is not far off now."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear you say that!" said Patsy; "but I hope it is not true. Why, here are we four newly found relations all beginning to get acquainted, and to love one another, and we can't have our little party broken up, auntie dear."
"Five of us—five relations," cried Uncle John, coming around the corner of the hedge. "Don't I count, Patsy, you rogue? 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."
"He's a little queer, yet, at times," added Beth, "but not a bit rude, as he used to be."
Aunt Jane looked from one to the other in amazement. No one had spoken so kindly of the boy before in years. And Uncle John, with a thoughtful look on his face, said slowly:
"The fact is, Jane, you've never given the boy a chance. On the contrary, you nearly ruined him by making a hermit of him and giving him no schooling to speak of and no society except that of servants. He was as wild as a hawk when I first came, but these girls are just the sort of companions he needs, to soften him and make him a man. I've no doubt he'll come out all right, in the end."
"Perhaps you'd like to adopt him yourself, John," sneered the woman, furious at this praise of the one person she so greatly disliked.
Her brother drew his hands from his pockets, looked around in a helpless and embarrassed way, and then tried fumblingly to fill his pipe.
"I ain't in the adopting business, Jane," he answered meekly. "And if I was," with a quaint smile, "I'd adopt one or two of these nieces o' mine, instead of Tom Bradley's nephew. If Bradley hadn't seen you, Jane, and loved your pretty face when you were young, Kenneth Forbes would now be the owner of Elmhurst. Did you ever think of that?"
Did she ever think of it? Why, it was this very fact that made the boy odious to her. The woman grew white with rage.
"John Merrick, leave my presence."
"All right, Jane."
He stopped to light his pipe, and then slowly walked away, leaving an embarrassed group behind him.
Patsy, however, was equal to the occasion. She began at once to chatter about Dr. Eliel, and the scar that would always show on her forehead; and how surprised the Major, her father, would be when he returned from the visit to his colonel and found his daughter had been through the wars herself, and bore the evidence of honorable wounds. Louise gracefully assisted her cousin to draw Aunt Jane into a more genial mood, and between them they presently succeeded. The interview that had begun so unfortunately ended quite pleasantly, and when Patricia returned to her room her aunt bade her adieu almost tenderly.
"In fact," said Louise to Beth, in the privacy of the latter's chamber, "I'm getting rather worried over Aunt Jane's evident weakness for our Cousin Patsy. Once or twice today I caught a look in her eye when she looked at Patsy that she has never given either you or me. The Irish girl may get the money yet."
"Nonsense," said Beth. "She has said she wouldn't accept a penny of it, and I'm positive she'll keep her word."
CHAPTER XVII.
AUNT JANE'S HEIRESS.
"Silas," said Aunt Jane to her lawyer, the next morning after her interview with Patsy, "I'm ready to have you draw up my will."
Mr. Watson gave a start of astonishment. In his own mind he had arrived at the conclusion that the will would never be executed, and to have Miss Merrick thus suddenly declare her decision was enough to startle even the lawyer's natural reserve.
"Very well, Jane," he said, briefly.
They were alone in the invalid's morning room, Phibbs having been asked to retire.
"There is no use disguising