“Strike while the iron’s hot!” This was the motto of Mrs. Ross,
especially in a matter of this kind. She was firmly resolved to get rid
of Uncle Obed as soon as she could.
She had always claimed to be of high family, and to have been brought
up in the same style in which she was now living, and here was a
witness who could disprove all she had said.
No one knew better than Uncle Obed that she had been very poor in her
early days, for it was he who, out of his small means, had contributed
to support her mother and herself. Any day he might refer to those
years of poverty; and Mrs. Ross felt that she should expire of
mortification if her servants should hear of them. Farewell, then, to
her aristocratic claims, for she knew well enough that they would be
ready enough to spread the report, which would soon reach the ears of
all her acquaintances. By way of precaution she took an opportunity of
presenting her version of the story to Nancy, who waited on the table.
“Mr. Wilkins is rather a strange old man, Nancy,” she said, affably, as
Nancy was clearing off the breakfast table the next morning.
“Is he really your uncle, mum?” asked Nancy.
Mrs. Ross wished she could deny it, but felt that she would be found
out in falsehood.
“Yes, Nancy, I confess that he is. There is a black sheep in every
family, and poor Uncle Obed was the black sheep in ours.”
“You don’t say so, mum! He seems harmless enough.”
“Oh, yes. There’s no harm in him; but he’s so rustic. Poor grandpa
tried to polish him by sending him to expensive schools, but it was no
use. He took no interest in books, and wouldn’t go to college”—Uncle
Obed would have opened his eyes if he had heard this—“and so grandpa
bought him a farm, and set him up in business as a farmer. He was
rather shiftless, and preferred the company of his farm laborers to
going into the fashionable society the rest of the family moved in; and
so all his life he has been nothing but a rough, unrefined farmer.”
“What a pity, mum.”
“Yes, it is a pity, but I suppose it was in him. Of course, it is very
mortifying to me to have him come here—so different as he is from the
rest of us. I am sure you can understand that, Nancy.”
“Oh, yes, mum.”
“He won’t feel at home among us, and I think I shall ask Colonel Ross
to pay his fare back to Illinois, and give him a pension, if he really
needs it. I dare say he has lost his farm, and is destitute, for he
never knew how to take care of money.”
“That would be very kind of you and the colonel, mum,” said Nancy, who
didn’t believe half her mistress was saying, but thought it might be
for her interest to pretend she did.
“By the way, Nancy, I think I shall not need any more the mantilla you
like so well. You can have it, if you like.”
“Oh, thank you, mum,” exclaimed Nancy, in surprise.
For she had never before received a present from her mistress, who was
well known to be mean and penurious.
The mantilla was a handsome one, and she thanked Mrs. Ross effusively.
“There, I’ve managed her,” thought Mrs. Ross, “though at the expense of
the valuable mantilla. I grudge it to her, but it is best to guard her
against any of Uncle Obed’s stories, at any cost. I must get rid of him
as soon as I can.”
Colonel Ross wished his wife to postpone speaking for a week, but this
she was unwilling to promise. She agreed to let her uncle stay a week,
but insisted on giving him notice to quit sooner.
On the morning of the third day she found her opportunity. Breakfast
was over, and she left alone with the old man.
“Mr. Wilkins,” she said, “I want to have a talk with you.”
“Certainly, Lucindy, you can talk just as much as you please. But what
makes you call me Mr. Wilkins? When you were a little girl, and came
over with a message from your mother, it was always Uncle Obed.”
“It is so long since I have seen you that I hardly feel like speaking
so familiarly,” said Mrs. Ross.
“You’ll feel better acquainted after a while, Lucindy.”
“That shows he expects to stay a long time,” thought Mrs. Ross.
“Don’t you think you made a mistake in leaving Illinois?” asked Mrs.
Ross, point-blank.
“Well, perhaps I did,” admitted Uncle Obed.
“Of course you did. You are too old to come to a new place where you
don’t know anybody. Now, out there you knew——”
“Pretty nigh everybody.”
“Exactly.”
“But out there I hadn’t any relations left. After my poor Mary died I
felt lonesome.”
“Still, as you hadn’t seen us for so many years, we are almost the same
as strangers.”
“I can’t forget, Lucindy, how you and your poor mother struggled along,
and how I tried to help——”
“We won’t recall those old times,” said Mrs. Ross, impatiently. “I was
going to say you wouldn’t be happy here. We don’t live as you were
accustomed to do; and, in fact, it would be inconvenient for us to have
a new inmate. My health is delicate, and——”
“You look pretty rugged, Lucindy.”
“Appearances are deceitful,” said Mrs. Ross, nodding her head solemnly.
“I am very nervous and all excitement is bad for me.”
“I hope I haven’t excited you, Lucindy,” said Uncle Obed. “I thought I
was pretty quiet. As to the work, you’ve got two girls to help in the
kitchen.”
“Yes; but there’s a certain amount of care that falls upon me which you
can’t understand.”
“I hope you won’t alter your living for me, Lucindy. I’m one of your
own folks, and I don’t mind a picked-up dinner now and then.”
“The ridiculous old man,” thought Mrs. Ross, impatiently. “As if I’d
alter my style of living for a destitute old man that looks as if he’d
just escaped from an almshouse.”
“We always live the same, company or no company,” she said, coldly.
“If we don’t change for fashionable visitors from New York and
Philadelphia, it is hardly likely would for you.”
“I’m glad I don’t give you any trouble.”
“But,” continued Mrs. Ross, “it is worrying to my nerves to have
company.”
“Then I shouldn’t think you’d invite those fashionable people from New
York and Philadelphia,” said Obed, slyly.
“Plague take him!” thought Mrs. Ross; “won’t he take a hint? I shall
have to speak more plainly. Indeed,” said she, “I was surprised you
should come in upon us without writing, or inquiring whether it would
be convenient for us to receive you.”
“I begin to understand,” said Uncle Obed. “I ain’t welcome here.”
“Well, you can stay a few days, if you desire it,” said Mrs. Ross, “but
you will be much happier in your old home than here.”
“I ought to be the best judge of that, Lucindy,” said the old man, with
dignity.
“Perhaps not. People can’t always judge best for themselves.”
“Perhaps not; but I am going to try the experience of staying here a
while.”
“I have already told you that it will not be convenient for you to stay
here. Colonel Ross will pay your fare back to Illinois, and that, I am
sure, is quite as much as he ought to do.”
“Lucindy,” said Uncle Obed, “you seem to have forgotten the years I
freely helped you and your poor mother. However, if you don’t care to
remember them, I won’t refer to them.”
Mrs. Ross had the grace to be ashamed, but was not moved in her
resolution to get rid of her uncle.
“Of course,” she said, “I don’t forget the past. We will help pay your
board in some town at a distance.”
“Why at a distance?”
“Because, if you were here, people might think it strange you didn’t
stay with us, and my health won’t admit that.”
“I’m much obliged for your offer, Lucindy, but I prefer to make my own
arrangements. I am going to stay here.”
“Then we shall not assist you,” said Mrs. Ross, angrily.
“I don’t wish you to. I can manage to pay my board, and I have already
selected a boarding place.”
“Where do you expect to board?” asked Mrs. Ross, curiously.
“I’ll tell you when it’s settled.”
The next day Uncle Obed informed his niece that he was to board with
Mrs. Gilbert. This was unwelcome news, because it would be a help to a
family she disliked; but Uncle Obed was proof against any insinuations
she was able to bring against Harry and his mother, and the day after
he transferred himself to the clean and airy chamber in Mrs. Gilbert’s
cottage.
“This will just suit me,” said the old man, looking about him with a
pleased expression. “I like this room much better than the one my niece
gave me.”
“Our house won’t compare with hers, Mr. Wilkins,” said the widow.
“It ain’t so fine, but she put me in a little seven-by-nine chamber,
and I was always used to plenty of room.”
“I am afraid our living will be too plain for you,” suggested Mrs.
Gilbert, apprehensively.
“Do I look as if I was used to high living?” asked Uncle Obed. “No;
whatever’s good enough for you and Harry is good enough for me. And now
it’s best to agree about terms, so that we may know just how we stand.”
This was rather embarrassing to the widow. Uncle Obed certainly did not
look as if he could pay much, yet it would not do to charge too little.
She would not be able to provide her table.
“Would four dollars suit you?” she asked, in a hesitating way.
“No, it wouldn’t,” said the old man.
“I don’t see how I can afford to ask less,” faltered Mrs. Gilbert.
“That isn’t the point,” he said. “You don’t ask enough. I will pay you
six dollars a week—the first week in advance.”
“I should never think of asking so much,” said Mrs. Gilbert, amazed.
“Are you sure——”
“That I can afford to pay so much?” asked Uncle Obed, who understood
her thought. “Yes; I have a little something, though you might not
think it from my clothes. When my trunk comes—I left it at a hotel in
New York—I will dress a little better; but I wanted to try an
experiment with my niece, Mrs. Ross. Here’s the money for the first
week.”
And, drawing out a large wallet, he took therefrom two bills—a five and
a one.
“It will make me feel very easy,” said Mrs. Gilbert, gratefully, “even
if Harry doesn’t get any regular work, though I hope he will.”
“I should like to warn you of one thing,” said Uncle Obed. “Don’t let
people know how much board I pay. If Mrs. Ross chooses to think I am
very poor, let her. She won’t pester me with hypocritical attentions,
which I shouldn’t value.”
Harry was delighted at his mother’s good fortune in obtaining so
valuable a boarder. Six dollars a week would go a long way in their
little household.
It gave him fresh courage in his efforts to obtain a place, for he knew
that, even if it was deferred, his mother would not suffer from the
delay.