Patricia sat down opposite her Aunt Jane. She still wore her hat and the gray wrap.  
"Well, here I am," she exclaimed, with a laugh; "but whether I ought to be here or not I have my doubts."
 
Aunt Jane surveyed her critically.
 
"You're a queer little thing," she said, bluntly. "I wonder why I took so much trouble to get you."
 
"So do I," returned Patsy, her eyes twinkling. "You'll probably be sorry for it."
 
Lawyer Watson, who had remained standing¹, now broke in nervously².
 
"I explained to Miss Doyle," said he, "that you were ill, and wanted to see her. And she kindly³ consented to come to Elmhurst for a few days."
 
"You see," said Patsy, "I'd just got Daddy away on his vacation, to visit his old colonel. I've wanted him to go this three years back, but he couldn't afford it until I got a raise this Spring. He'll have a glorious old time with the colonel, and they'll fish and hunt and drink whiskey all day, and fight the war all over again every evening. So I was quite by myself when Mr. Watson came to me and wouldn't take no for his answer."
 
"Why did you object to come here?" asked Aunt Jane.
 
"Well, I didn't know you; and I didn't especially want to know you. Not that I bear grudges⁴, understand, although you've been little of a friend to my folks these past years. But you are rich and proud—and I suspect you're a little cross, Aunt Jane—while we are poor and proud and like to live our lives in our own way."
 
"Are you a working girl?" enquired⁵ Miss Merrick.
 
"Surely," said Patsy, "and drawing a big lump of salary every Saturday night. I'm a hair-dresser, you know—and by the way, Aunt Jane, it puzzles me to find a certain kink in your hair that I thought I'd invented myself."
 
"Louise dressed my hair this way," said Miss Merrick, a bit stiffly.
 
"Your maid?"
 
"My niece, Louise Merrick."
 
Patsy whistled, and then clapped her hand over her mouth and looked grave.
 
"Is she here?" she asked, a moment later.
 
"Yes, and your other cousin, Elizabeth De Graf, is here also."
 
"That's just the trouble," cried Patsy, energetically. "That's why I didn't want to come, you know."
 
"I don't understand you, Patricia."
 
"Why, it's as plain as the nose on your face, even if I hadn't pumped Mr. Watson until I got the truth out of him. You want us girls here just to compare us with each other, and pick out the one you like best."
 
"Well?"
 
"The others you'll throw over, and the favorite will get your money."
 
"Haven't I a right to do that?" asked the invalid⁶, in an amazed tone.
 
"Perhaps you have. But we may as well understand each other right now, Aunt Jane. I won't touch a penny of your money, under any circumstances."
 
"I don't think you will, Patricia."
 
The girl laughed, with a joyous⁷, infectious merriment that was hard to resist.
 
"Stick to that, aunt, and there's no reason we shouldn't be friends," she said, pleasantly. "I don't mind coming to see you, for it will give me a bit of a rest and the country is beautiful just now. More than that, I believe I shall like you. You've had your own way a long time, and you've grown crochetty and harsh and disagreeable; but there are good lines around your mouth and eyes, and your nature's liable to soften⁸ and get sunny again. I'm sure I hope so. So, if you'd like me to stay a few days, I'll take off my things and make myself at home. But I'm out of the race for your money, and I'll pay my way from now on just as I have always done."
 
Silas Watson watched Aunt Jane's face during this speech with an anxious and half-frightened expression upon his own. No one but himself had ever dared to talk to Jane Merrick as plainly as this before, and he wondered how she would accept such frankness from a young girl.
 
But Patricia's manner was not at all offensive. Her big eyes were as frank as her words, but they glistened⁹ with kindliness¹⁰ and good nature, and it was evident the girl had no doubt at all of her aunt's reply, for she straightway begun to take off her hat.
 
The invalid had kept her eyes sternly fastened upon her young niece ever since the beginning of the interview. Now she reached out a hand and touched her bell.
 
"Misery," she said to the old housekeeper¹¹, "show my niece, Miss
Patricia, to the rose chamber¹². And see that she is made comfortable."
"Thank you," said Patsy, jumping up to go.
 
"Make yourself perfectly¹³ free of the place," continued Aunt Jane, in an even tone, turning to Patricia, "and have as good a time as you can. I'm afraid it's rather stupid here for girls, but that can't be helped. Stay as long as you please, and go home whenever you like; but while you are here, if you ever feel like chatting with a harsh and disagreeable old woman, come to me at any time and you will be welcome."
 
Patsy, standing before her, looked down into her worn face with a pitying expression.
 
"Ah! I've been cruel to you," she exclaimed, impulsively¹⁴, "and I didn't mean to hurt you at all, Aunt Jane. You must forgive me. It's just my blunt Irish way, you see; but if I hadn't been drawn¹⁶ to you from the first I wouldn't have said a word—good or bad!"
 
"Go now," replied Aunt Jane, turning in her chair rather wearily. "But come to me again whenever you like."
 
Patsy nodded, and followed the housekeeper to the rose chamber—the prettiest room old Elmhurst possessed¹⁷, with broad windows opening directly upon the finest part of the garden.
 
Lawyer Watson sat opposite his old friend for some moments in thoughtful silence. "The child is impossible." he said, at last.
 
"You think so?" she enquired, moodily¹⁸.
 
"Absolutely. Either of the others would make a better Lady of Elmhurst. Yet I like the little thing, I confess. She quite won my old heart after I had known her for five minutes. But money would ruin her. She's a child of the people, and ought not to be raised from her proper level. Jane, Jane—you're making a grave mistake in all this. Why don't you do the only right thing in your power, and leave Elmhurst to Kenneth?"
 
"You bore me, Silas," she answered, coldly. "The boy is the most impossible of all."
 
It was the old protest and the old reply. He had hardly expected anything different.
 
After a period of thought he asked;
 
"What is this I hear about John Merrick having returned from the
West?"
"He came yesterday. It was a great surprise to me."
 
"I never knew this brother, I believe."
 
"No; he had gone away before I became ac............