Kenneth also now became Patsy's faithful companion, for the boy had lost his former bashfulness and fear of girls, and had grown to feel at ease even in the society of Beth and Louise. The four had many excursions and picnics into the country together; but Kenneth and Patsy were recognized as especial chums, and the other girls did not interfere in their friendship except to tease them, occasionally, in a good natured way.
The boy's old acquaintances could hardly recognize him as the same person they had known before Patricia's adventure on the plank. His fits of gloomy abstraction and violent bursts of temper had alike vanished, or only prevailed at brief intervals. Nor was he longer rude and unmannerly to those with whom he came in contact. Awkward he still was, and lacking in many graces that education and good society can alone confer; but he was trying hard to be, as he confided to old Uncle John, "like other people," and succeeded in adapting himself very well to his new circumstances.
Although he had no teacher, as yet, he had begun to understand color a little, and succeeded in finishing one or two water-color sketches which Patsy, who knew nothing at all of such things, pronounced "wonderfully fine." Of course the boy blushed with pleasure and was encouraged to still greater effort.
The girl was also responsible for Kenneth's sudden advancement in the household at Elmhurst.
One day she said calmly to Aunt Jane:
"I've invited Kenneth to dinner this evening."
The woman flew angry in an instant.
"Who gave you such authority?" she demanded.
"No one. I just took it," said Patsy, saucily.
"He shall not come," declared Aunt Jane, sternly. "I'll have no interference from you, Miss, with my household arrangements. Phibbs, call Louise!"
Patsy's brow grew dark. Presently Louise appeared.
"Instruct the servants to forbid that boy to enter my dining room this evening," she said to Louise.
"Also, Louise," said Patsy, "tell them not to lay a plate for me, and ask Oscar to be ready with the wagon at five o'clock. I'm going home."
Louise hesitated, and looked from Miss Jane to Patsy, and back again.
They were glaring upon each other like two gorgons.
Then she burst into laughter; she could not help it, the sight was too ridiculous. A moment later Patsy was laughing, too, and then Aunt Jane allowed a grim smile to cross her features.
"Never mind, Louise," she said, with remarkable cheerfulness; "We'll compromise matters."
"How?" asked Patsy.
"By putting a plate for Kenneth," said her aunt, cooly. "I imagine I can stand his society for one evening."
So the matter was arranged to Patricia's satisfaction, and the boy came to dinner, trembling and unhappy at first, but soon placed at ease by the encouragements of the three girls. Indeed, he behaved so well, in the main, and was so gentle and unobstrusive, that Aunt Jane looked at him with surprise, and favored him with one or two speeches which he answered modestly and well.
Patsy was radiant with delight, and the next day Aunt Jane remarked casually that she did not object to the boy's presence at dinner, at all, and he could come whenever he liked.
This arrangement gave great pleasure to both Uncle John and Mr. Watson, the latter of whom was often present at the "state dinner," and both men congratulated Patsy upon the distinct victory she had won. No more was said about her leaving Elmhurst. The Major wrote that he was having a splendid time with the colonel, and begged for an extension of his vacation, to which Patsy readily agreed, she being still unable on account of her limb to return to her work at Madam Borne's.
And so the days glided pleasantly by, and August came to find a happy company of young folks at old Elmhurst, with Aunt Jane wonderfully improved in health and Uncle John beaming complacently upon everyone he chanced to meet.
CHAPTER XVIII.
PATRICIA SPEAKS FRANKLY.
It was Lawyer Watson's suggestion that she was being unjust to Beth and Louise, in encouraging them to hope they might inherit Elmhurst, that finally decided Aunt Jane to end all misunderstandings and inform her nieces of the fact that she had made a final disposition of her property.
So one morning she sent word asking them all into her room, and when the nieces appeared they found Uncle John and the lawyer already in their aunt's presence. There was an air of impressive formality pervading the room, although Miss Merrick's brother, at least, was as ignorant as her nieces of the reason why they had been summoned.
Patsy came in last, hobbling actively on her crutches, although the leg was now nearly recovered, and seated herself somewhat in the rear of the apartment.
Aunt Jane looked into one expectant face after another with curious interest, and then broke the silence by saying, gravely, but in more gentle tones than she was accustomed to use:
"I believe, young ladies, that you have understood from the first my strongest reason for inviting you to visit Elmhurst this summer. I am old, and must soon pass away, and instead of leaving you and your parents, who would be my legitimate heirs, to squabble over my property when I am gone, I decided to excute a will bequeathing my estate to some one who would take proper care of it and maintain it in a creditable manner. I had no personal acquaintance with any of you, but judged that one out of the three might serve my purpose, and therefore invited you all here."
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. You cannot accuse of injustice, because none of you had a right to expect anything of me; but I will say this, that I am well pleased with all three of you, and now wish that I had taken pains to form your acquaintance earlier in life. You might have cheered my old age and rendered it less lonely and dull."
"Well said, Jane," remarked Uncle John, nodding his head approvingly.
She did not notice the interruption, but presently continued:
"Some days ago I asked my lawyer, Mr. Watson, to draw up my will. It was at once prepared and signed, and now stands as my last will and testament. I have given to you, Louise, the sum of five thousand dollars."
Louise laughed nervously, and threw out her hands with an indifferent gesture.
"Many thanks, Aunt," she said, lightly.
"To you, Beth," continued Miss Merrick, "I have given the same sum."
Beth's heart sank, and tears forced themselves into her eyes in spite of her efforts to restrain them. She said nothing.
Aunt Jane turned to her brother.
"I have also provided for you, John, in the sum of five thousand dollars."
"Me!" he exclaimed, astounded. "Why, suguration, Jane, I don't—"
"Silence!" she cried, sternly. "I expect neither thanks nor protests. If you take care of the money, John, it will last you as long as you live."
Uncle John laughed. He doubled up in his chair and rocked back and forth, shaking his little round body as if he had met with the most amusing thing that had ever happened in his life. Aunt Jane stared at him, while Louise and Beth looked their astonishment, but Patsy's clear laughter rang above Uncle John's gasping chuckles.
"I hope,