The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary by Anne Warner

A >> Anne Warner >> The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Janice went out and found Jack in the hall.

"Is this a trap?" she asked reproachfully.

Jack laughed.

"No," he said "it's a counter-mine."

"Your aunt wants you at once," said Janice, putting her hands into her
pockets and looking out of the window.

"I fly to obey," he said obediently, and went at once to his elderly
relative.

"Jack," she said, the instant he opened the door, "I've had a little talk
with Granite. She don' want to marry you, but she looks to me like she
really didn't know her own mind. I've said all I can say an' I'm too tired
holdin' the ear-trumpet to say any more. I think the best thing you can do
is to take her out for a walk an' explain things thoroughly. It's no good
our talkin' to her together; and, anyway, I've always been a great
believer in 'Two's company--three's none.' That was really the big reason
why I'd never let Lucinda keep a cat. You take her and go to walk and I
guess everything'll come out all right. It ought to. My heavens alive!"

Jack took the maid and they went out to walk. When they were beyond
earshot the first thing that they did was to laugh long and loud.

"Of all my many and varied adventures!" cried Mrs. Rosscott, and Jack took
the opportunity to kiss her again--under no protest this time.

"We shall have to be married very soon, now, you know," he said gayly.
"Aunt Mary won't be able to wait."

"Oh, as to that--we'll see," said Mrs. Rosscott, and laughed afresh. "But
there is one thing that must be done at once."

"What's that?" Jack asked.

"We must tell Aunt Mary who I am."

"Oh, to be sure," said the young man.

"I hope she won't take it in any way but the right way!" the widow said
thoughtfully.

"My dearest, in what other way could she take it? I think she has proved
her opinion of you pretty sincerely."

"Yes," said Mrs. Rosscott, with a little smile, "I certainly have cause to
feel that she loves me for myself alone."

When they returned to the house they went straightway to Aunt Mary's room,
and the first glance through the old lady's eye-glasses told her that her
wishes had all been fulfilled. She sat up in bed, took a hand of each into
her own, and surveyed them in an access of such utter joy as nearly caused
all three to weep together.

"Well, I _am_ so glad," was all she said for the first few seconds, and
nobody doubted her words forever after.

Then Mrs. Rosscott removed her hat and jacket, and when she returned to
the bedside her future aunt made her sit down close to her and hold one of
her hands while Jack held the other.

"I'm _so_ glad you're to have the runnin' of Jack," the old lady declared
sincerely. "All I ask of you is to be patient with him. I always was. That
is, _most_ always."

"Dear Aunt Mary," said Mrs. Rosscott, slipping down on her knees beside
the bed, "you are so good to me that you encourage me to tell you my
secret. It isn't long, and it isn't bad, but I have a confession to make."

"Oh, I say," cried Jack, "if you put it that way let me do the owning up!"

"Hush," said his love authoritatively, "it's my confession. Leave it to
me."

"What is it?" said Aunt Mary, looking anxiously from one to the other;
"you haven't broke your engagement already, I hope."

"No," said Mrs. Rosscott, "it's nothing like that. It's only rather a
surprise. But it's a nice surprise,--at least, I hope you'll think that it
is."

"Well, hurry and tell me then," said the old lady. "I'm a great believer
in bein' told good news as soon as possible. What is it?"

"It's that I'm not a maid," said the pretty widow.

"Not--a--" cried Aunt Mary blankly.

"I'm a widow!" said Janice. "I'm Burnett's sister."

"Wh--a--at!" cried Aunt Mary. "I didn't jus' catch that."

"You see," screamed Jack, "she was afraid to have me entertain you in New
York,--afraid you wouldn't be properly looked after, Aunt Mary, so she
dressed up for your maid and looked after you herself."

"My heavens alive!"

"Wasn't she an angel?" he asked.

"But whatever made you take such an interest?" Aunt Mary demanded of
Janice.

Janice rose from her knees and, leaning over the bed, drew the old lady
close in her arms.

"I'll tell you," she screamed gently. "I loved Jack, and so I loved his
aunt even before I had ever seen her."

Aunt Mary's joy fairly overflowed at that view of things, and, putting her
hands to either side of the lovely face so close to her own, she kissed it
warmly again and again.

"I always knew you were suthin' out of the ordinary," she declared
vigorously. "You know I wouldn't have let him marry you if I hadn't been
pretty sure as you were different from Lucinda an' the common run."

And then she beamed on them both and Jack beamed on them both and Mrs.
Rosscott kissed each of them and dried her own happy eyes.

"Now I want to know jus' how an' where you learned to love him?" the aunt
asked next.

"I loved him almost directly I knew him," she answered, and at that Aunt
Mary seemed on the point of applauding with the ear-trumpet against the
headboard.

"It was jus' the same with me," she said delightedly. "He was only a baby
then, but the first look I took I jus' had a feelin'--"

"Yes," said Mrs. Rosscott sympathetically, "so did I."

They all laughed together.

"An' now," said Aunt Mary, laying back and folding her arms upon her
bosom, "an' now comes the main question,--when do you two want to be
married?"

"Oh!" said the widow starting, "we--I--Jack--"

"Well, go on," said Aunt Mary. "Say whenever you like. An' then Jack can
do the same."

The two young people exchanged glances.

"Speak right up," said Aunt Mary. "I'm a great believer in not hangin'
back when anythin' has got to be decided. Jack, what do you think?"

"I want to get married right off," said Jack decidedly.

"I think he's too young," put in Mrs. Rosscott hastily.

"I don't know," said Aunt Mary, looking at her nephew reflectively. "Seems
to me he's big enough, an' I'm a great believer in never dilly-dallyin'
over what's got to be done some time. Why not Thanksgiving?"

"Thanksgiving!" shrieked Mrs. Rosscott.

"Yes," said Aunt Mary. "I think it would be a good time, an' then I can
come and spend Christmas with you in the city."

"Great idea!" declared her nephew; "me for Thanksgiving."

"What do you say?" said Aunt Mary to the bride-to-be.

"Oh, I don't see--" began the latter, wrinkling her pretty forehead in a
prettier perplexity and looking helplessly back and forth between their
double eagerness.

"Well, why not?" said the aunt. "It ain't as if there was any reason for
waitin'. If there was I'd be the first to be willin' to do all I could to
be patient, but as it is--even if you an' Jack ain't in any particular
hurry, I am, an' I was brought up to go right to work at gettin' what you
want as soon as you know what it is."

"But this is so sudden," wailed Mrs. Rosscott.

Aunt Mary glanced at her sharply.

"That's what they all say, a'cordin' to the papers," she said calmly, "an'
it never is counted as anythin' but a joke."

"But I'm not joking," Janice cried.

"Then you jus' take a little time an' think it over," proposed the old
lady,--"I'll tell you what you can do. You can get me Lucinda because I
want to tell her suthin' and then you and Jack can sit down together an'
think it over anywhere an' anyhow you like."

"Do you really want Lucinda," said Janice, rising to her feet, "or is it
something that I can do? You know I'm yours just the same as ever, Aunt
Mary. Next to being good to Jack, I want to always be good to you."

Aunt Mary looked up with a light in her eyes that was fine to see.

"Bless you, my child," she said heartily. "I know that, but I really want
Lucinda, an' you an' Jack can take care of yourselves for a while.
Leastways, I hope you can. I guess you can. I presume so, anyway."

It was late that afternoon that Lucinda, looking as if she had been
accidentally overtaken by a road-roller, joined Joshua in the potato
cellar.

"Well, the sky c'n fall whenever it likes now!" she said, sitting down on
an empty barrel with a resigned sigh.

"That's a comfort to know," said Joshua.

"She's got it all made up for 'em to marry each other."

"That ain't no great news to me," said Joshua.

"Joshua Whittlesey, you make my blood boil. Things is goin' rackin' and
ruinin' at a great pace here an' you as cold as a cauliflower over it
all."

Joshua sorted potatoes phlegmatically and said nothing.

"S'posin' I'd 'a' wanted to marry him?"

Joshua continued to sort potatoes.

"Or, s'posin' you wanted to marry her?"

Joshua looked up quickly.

"Which one?" he said.

"Janice!"

"Oh," he said in a relieved tone.

"Why did you say 'oh,'--did you think I meant her?"

"I didn't know who you meant."

"Why, you wouldn't think o' marryin' her, would you?"

"No," said Joshua emphatically. "I'd as soon think o' marryin' you
yourself."

Lucinda deliberated for a minute or so as to whether to accept this insult
in silence or not, and finally decided to make just one more remark.

"I wonder if she'll send any word to Arethusa 'n' Mary."

"They'll know soon enough," said Joshua oracularly.

"How'll they know, I'd like to know?"

"You'll write 'em."

Lucinda was dumb. The fact that the letter was already written only made
the serpent-tooth of Joshua's intimate knowledge cut the deeper.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - GRAND FINALE

She has it all made up for him to marry her, and she is certainly
as happy as she is and he is themselves. She is making plans at a
great rate and she has consented to have her wedding here because
she wants to be there herself. The day is set for Thanksgiving and
the Lord be with us for everything has got to be just so and she
is no more good at helping now that he's come. They are all going
back to New York as soon as possible after it's over and I hope to
be forgiven for stating plainly that it will be the happiest day'
of my life.

Respectfully,

L. COOKE.

Upon receipt of this astounding news Arethusa took the train and flew to
the scene where such momentous happenings were piling up on one another.
Her arrival was unexpected and the changes which she found ensued and
ensuing were of a nature bewildering in the extreme. Aunt Mary had quit
her regime of soup and sleep and was not only more energetically vigorous
as to mind than ever, but strengthening daily as to bodily force. It might
have been the excitement, for Burnett was there, Clover was _en route_,
and Mitchell was expected within twenty-four hours. Other great changes
were visible everywhere. A corps of servants from town had fairly swamped
Lucinda and twenty carpenters were putting up an extra addition to the
house in which to give the wedding room to spread. Nor was this all, for
Aunt Mary had turned a furniture man and an upholsterer loose with no
other limit than that comprised by the two words "_carte blanche_."

Mrs. Rosscott still continued to wait upon Aunt Mary, but another maid had
arrived to await upon Mrs. Rosscott. The latter had shed her black uniform
and bloomed forth in rose-hued robes. Mr. Stebbins was kept on tap from
dawn to dark and the checks flowed like water. Emissaries had been
despatched to New York to buy the young couple a suitable house and
furnish that also from top to bottom.

"Well, Arethusa," the aunt said to the niece when they met the morning
after her arrival, "I'm feelin' better 'n I was last time you were here."

"I'm so glad," yelled Arethusa.

"They'll live in New York and I'll live with them. As far as I've seen
there ain't no other place on earth to live. I'm goin' to get me a coat
lined with black-spotted white cat's fur and have my glasses put on a
parasol handle, and I'm going to have the collars and sleeves left out of
most of my dresses an' look like other people. I'm a great believer in
doin' as others do, an' Jack won't ever have no cause to complain that I
didn't take easy to city life."

Arethusa felt herself dumb before these revelations.

Later she was conducted to see the wedding presents, which were gorgeous.
Among them was the biggest and brightest of crimson automobiles; and
Mitchell, who had presented it, had christened it beforehand "The Midnight
Sun." Aunt Mary's gift was the New York house and money enough for them to
live on the income.

"I know you're able to look out for yourself," she told the bride, "but I
don't want Jack to have to worry over things at all, and, although I know
it's a good habit, still I shouldn't like to have him ever work so hard
that he wouldn't feel like goin' around with us nights. Not ever. Not even
sometimes."

Mitchell was overjoyed at the way things had turned out.

"My dear Miss Watkins," he screamed, when he was ushered into Aunt Mary's
presence, "who could have guessed in the hour of that sad parting in New
York that such a glad future was held in store for us all!"

"I didn't quite catch that," Aunt Mary exclaimed, rapturously, "but it
doesn't matter--as long as you got here safe at last."

"Safe!" exclaimed the young man; "it would have been the very refinement
of cruelty if my train had smashed me on this journey."

Burnett was equally happy.

"I suppose it will be up to me to give you away," he said to his sister;
"before all these people, too. What a mean trick!"

Jack had thought that he would like to have Tweedwell marry him, as that
young man had put in the summer vacation getting ordained. Tweedwell
accepted--although he had just taken charge of a living in Seattle and came
through on a flyer which arrived two hours before _the_ hour. Some fifty
or sixty of the guests came in on the same train, and Burnett and Clover
met them all at the cars and made the majority comfortable in the
different hotels and honored the minority with Aunt Mary's hospitality.

The day was gorgeous. The addition to the house was done and lined with
white and decorated in gold. An orchestra was ensconced behind palms just
as orchestras always covet to be and a magnificent breakfast had been sent
up from the city in its own car with its own service and attendants to
serve it.

There was only one hitch in the entire programme. That was that when they
got to the church Tweedwell did not show up. Jack was distressed even
though Mrs. Rosscott laughed. Mitchell wanted to read the ceremony, but
Aunt Mary was afraid it wouldn't be legal, and Mr. Stebbins agreed with
her. In the end the regular clergyman married them; and just as they were
all filing out they met Tweedwell and Lucinda tearing along, he in his
surplice and she in the black silk dress which Aunt Mary had given her in
celebration of the occasion. They were both too exhausted to be able to
explain for several minutes; but it finally came out (of Lucinda) that
Burnett, whose place it was to have overseen officiating Tweedwell, had
forgotten all about him, and the poor fellow, exhausted by his long
journey, had never awakened until Lucinda, going in to clear up his room,
had let forth a piercing howl of surprise.

So far from dampening anyone's spirits this little _contretemps_ only
seemed to set things off at a livelier pace. They had a brisk ride home,
and the wedding feast and the wedding cake were all that could be desired.
What went with it was the finest that any of the guests ever tasted before
or since, and the champagne was all but served in beer steins.

When it came to the healths they drank to Aunt Mary along with the bride
and groom, and Mitchell made a speech, invoking Heaven's blessings on the
triple compact and covering himself with glory.

"Here's to Aunt Mary and her bride and her groom," he cried, when they
told him to rise and proclaim. "Here's to Aunt Mary and her bride and
groom, and here's to their health and their wealth and their happiness.
Here's to their brilliant past, their roseate present and their gorgeous
future. And here's to hoping that Fate, who is ready and willing to deal
any man a bride, may some time see fit to deal some one of us another such
as Jack's Aunt Mary. So I propose her health before all else. Aunt Mary,
long may she wave!"

Aunt Mary looked as if words and actions were poor things in which to
attempt to express her feelings, but no one who glanced at her could be in
two minds as to her state of approval as to everything that was going on.

The bridal pair drove away somewhere after five o'clock, and about seven
the main body of the guests returned to the city.

Mrs. Rosscott's mother and Mitchell and Burnett remained a day or two to
keep Aunt Mary from feeling blue, but Aunt Mary was not at all inclined
that way.

"If those two young people are lookin' forward to anythin' like as much
fun as I am," she said over and over again, "well, all is they're lookin'
forward to a good deal."

"Won't we whoop her up next summer!" said Burnett; "well, I don't know!"

"My dear Robert," said his mother gently.

"Don't stop him," said Aunt Mary. "He knows just how I feel an' I know
jus' how he feels. It isn't wrong, Mrs. Burnett, it's natural. We were
born to be happy, only sometimes we don't know just how to set about it."

"Miss Watkins has hit the nail on the head," said Mitchell, rolling a
cigarette. "She has not only hit the nail on its own head, but she has
succeeded in driving its point well into all our heads. She taught us many
things during her short visit. I, for one, am her debtor forever. Me for
joy, from now on!"

Aunt Mary smiled. "My heavens!" she murmured; "to think how nice it all
come out, and how really put out I was when Jack first began, too."

Burnett put his hand in his pocket and pulled out some gum.

"Robert!" cried his mother, "you don't chew gum, do you?"

"Of course he doesn't," said his friend quickly; "that's why he had it in
his pocket."

Aunt Mary looked thoughtfully at him.

"Give me a little," she said, "maybe it's suthin' I've been missin'."

Mrs. Burnett left the next day, and Mitchell went the day after.

The carpenters took down the addition, and the wedding presents were
shipped to town.

"She says she'll be goin' soon," said Lucinda to Joshua.

"Then she'll be goin' soon," said Joshua.

"I'm sure I'll be glad," said Lucinda; "such hifalutin sky-larkin'!"

Joshua said nothing. Mr. Stebbins had apprised him of Aunt Mary's
arrangements in his behalf and he felt no inclination to criticize any of
her doings and sayings.

Toward the end of the next week this telegram was received.

Dear Aunt Mary: We're home and ready when you are. Telegraph what
train.

J. and J.

The telegram was handed to Aunt Mary at ten in the morning. Her fingers
trembled as she opened it.

"My heavens alive, Lucinda," she cried, the next minute, "I do believe, if
you'll be quick, that I can make the twelve-twenty! Run! Tell Joshua to
get my trunk down and harness Billy as quick as he can. He can telegraph
that I'm comin' after I'm gone."

Lucinda flew Joshua-wards.

"She wants to make the twelve-twenty train!" she cried. Joshua looked up.

"Then she'll make it," he said.

She made it!

_Anne Warner's "Susan Clegg" Books_

SUSAN CLEGG AND HER FRIEND MRS. LATHROP

_By_ ANNE WARNER
With Frontispiece, $1.00

Nothing better in the new homely philosophy style of fiction has been
written.--_San Francisco Bulletin_.

One of the most genuinely humorous books ever written.--_St. Louis
Globe-Democrat_.

Anything more humorous than the Susan Clegg stories would be hard to
find.--_The Critic_, New York.

* * * * *

_By the Same Author_:

SUSAN CLEGG AND HER NEIGHBORS' AFFAIRS

With Frontispiece, $1.00

All the stories brim over with quaint humor, caustic sarcasm, and
concealed contempt for male and matrimonial chains.--_Philadelphia Ledger_.

* * * * *

SUSAN CLEGG AND A MAN IN THE HOUSE

Illustrated by Alice Barber Stephens. $1.50

Susan is a positive joy, and the reading world owes Anne Warner a vote of
thanks for her contribution to the list of American humor.--_New York
Times_.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., Publishers
34 Beacon Street, Boston

_An exceedingly clever volume of stories_

AN ORIGINAL GENTLEMAN

_By_ ANNE WARNER

With frontispiece by Alice Barber Stephens

Cloth. $1.50

Exhibits her cleverness and sense of humor.--_New York Times_.

Crisply told, quaintly humorous.--_Boston Transcript_.

An "Original Gentleman" is truly also one of the most entertaining and
witty gentlemen that it has been our fortune to run across in many a day,
not to mention the more original lady that he has to do with.--_Louisville
Evening Post_.

* * * * *

_By the same author_

A WOMAN'S WILL

Illustrated. 360 pages. Cloth. $1.50

A deliciously funny book.--_Chicago Tribune_.

It is bright, charming, and intense as it describes the wooing of a young
American widow on the European Continent by a German musical genius.--_San
Francisco Chronicle_.

As refreshing a bit of fiction as one often finds.--_Providence Journal_.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON

_Anne Warner's Latest Character Creation_

IN A MYSTERIOUS WAY

_By_ ANNE WARNER

Illustrated by J.V. McFall. Cloth. $1.50

A story of love and sacrifice that teems with the author's original
humor.--_Baltimore American_.

The humor peculiar to her pen is here in wonted strength, but in a new
guise; and set against it, or interwoven with it, is a story of love and
the strange sacrifice of which a few loving hearts are capable.--_New York
American_.

* * * * *

_By the same author_

YOUR CHILD AND MINE

Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth. $1.50

The child heart, strange and sweet and tender, lies open to this
sympathetic writer, and other human hearts--and eyes--should be opened by
her narratives.--_Chicago Record-Herald_.

The literary charm of the stories is not the least of their attractions.
The interest is all the greater for the style in which the story is told,
and the author's sympathy with her young friends lends a vital warmth to
her narrative.--_Philadelphia Public Ledger_.

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON

_By the Author of "Aunt Jane of Kentucky"_

THE LAND OF LONG AGO

_By_ ELIZA CALVERT HALL

Illustrated by G. Patrick Nelson and Beulah Strong 12mo. Cloth. $1.50

The book is an inspiration.--_Boston Globe_.

Without qualification one of the worthiest publications of the
year.--_Pittsburg Post_.

Aunt Jane has become a real personage in American literature.--_Hartford
Courant_.

A philosophy sweet and wholesome flows from the lips of "Aunt
Jane."--_Chicago Evening Post_.

The sweetness and sincerity of Aunt Jane's recollections have the same
unfailing charm found in "Cranford."--_Philadelphia Press_.

To a greater degree than her previous work it touches the heart by its
wholesome, quaint human appeal.--_Boston Transcript_.

The stories are prose idyls; the illuminations of a lovely spirit shine
upon them, and their literary quality is as rare as beautiful.--_Baltimore
Sun_.

MARGARET E. SANGSTER says: "It is not often that an author competes with
herself, but Eliza Calvert Hall has done so successfully, for her second
volume centred about Aunt Jane is more fascinating than her first."

LITTLE, BROWN, & CO., PUBLISHERS
34 BEACON STREET, BOSTON

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15