AUNT JANE'S NIECES IN SOCIETY
BY
EDITH VAN DYNE
1910
LIST OF CHAPTERS
CHAPTER
I UNCLE JOHN'S DUTY
II A QUESTION OF "PULL"
III DIANA
IV THE THREE NIECES
V PREPARING FOR THE PLUNGE
VI THE FLY IN THE BROTH
VII THE HERO ENTERS AND TROUBLE BEGINS
VIII OPENING THE CAMPAIGN
IX THE VON TAER PEARLS
X MISLED
XI LIMOUSINE
XII FOGERTY
XIII DIANA REVOLTS
XIV A COOL ENCOUNTER
XV A BEWILDERING EXPERIENCE
XVI MADAME CERISE, CUSTODIAN
XVII THE MYSTERY DEEPENS
XVIII A RIFT IN THE CLOUDS
XIX POLITIC REPENTANCE
XX A TELEPHONE CALL
XXI THE UNEXPECTED HAPPENS
XXII GONE
XXIII THE CRISIS
XXIV A MATTER OF COURSE
CHAPTER I
UNCLE JOHN'S DUTY
"You're not doing your duty by those girls, John Merrick!"
The gentleman at whom this assertion was flung in a rather angry tone
did not answer his sister-in-law. He sat gazing reflectively at the
pattern in the rug and seemed neither startled nor annoyed. Mrs.
Merrick, a pink-cheeked middle-aged lady attired in an elaborate morning
gown, knitted her brows severely as she regarded the chubby little man
opposite; then, suddenly remembering that the wrinkles might leave their
dreadful mark on her carefully rolled and massaged features, she
banished them with a pass of her ringed hand and sighed dismally.
"It would not have mattered especially had the poor children been left
in their original condition of friendless poverty," she said. "They were
then like a million other girls, content to struggle for a respectable
livelihood and a doubtful position in the lower stratas of social
communion. But you interfered. You came into their lives abruptly,
appearing from those horrid Western wilds with an amazing accumulation
of money and a demand that your three nieces become your special
_protégées_. And what is the result?"
The little man looked up with a charming smile of good humored raillery.
His keen gray eyes sparkled as mischievously as a schoolboy's. Softly he
rubbed the palms of his hands together, as if enjoying the situation.
"What is it, Martha, my dear? What is the result?" he asked.
"You've raised them from their lowly condition to a sphere in which they
reign as queens, the envy of all who know them. You've lavished your
millions upon them unsparingly; they are not only presumptive heiresses
but already possessed of independent fortunes. Ah, you think you've been
generous to these girls; don't you, John Merrick?" "Go on, Martha; go
on."
"You've taken them abroad--you took my own daughter, John Merrick, and
left _me_ at home!--you've lugged your three nieces to the mountains and
carried them to the seashore. You even encouraged them to enlist in an
unseemly campaign to elect that young imbecile, Kenneth Forbes, and--"
"Oh, Martha, Martha! Get to the point, if you can. I'm going,
presently."
"Not until you've heard me out. You've given your nieces every advantage
in your power save one, and the neglect of that one thing renders futile
all else you have accomplished."
Now, indeed, her listener seemed perplexed. He passed a hand over his
shiny bald head as if to stimulate thought and exorcise bewilderment.
"What is it, then? What have I neglected?" was his mild enquiry.
"To give those girls their proper standing in society."
He started; smiled; then looked grave.
"You're talking foolishly," he said. "Why, confound it, Martha, they're
as good girls as ever lived! They're highly respected, and--" "Sir, I
refer to Fashionable Society." The capitals indicate the impressive
manner in which Mrs. Merrick pronounced those words.
"I guess money makes folks fashionable; don't it, Martha?"
"No, indeed. How ignorant you are, John. Can you not understand that
there is a cultured, aristocratic and exclusive Society in New York that
millions will not enable one to gain _entrée_ to?"
"Oh, is there? Then I'm helpless."
"You are not, sir."
"Eh? I thought you said--"
"Listen, John; and for heaven's sake try for once to be receptive. I am
speaking not only for the welfare of my daughter Louise but for Beth
and Patricia. Your nieces are charming girls, all three. With the
advantages you have given them they may well become social celebrities."
"H-m-m. Would they be happier so?"
"Of course. Every true woman longs for social distinction, especially if
it seems difficult to acquire. Nothing is dearer to a girl's heart than
to win acceptance by the right social set. And New York society is the
most exclusive in America."
"I'm afraid it will continue to exclude our girls, Martha."
"Not if you do your duty, John."
"That reminds me. What is your idea of my duty, Martha? You've been
talking in riddles, so far," he protested, shifting uneasily in his
chair.
"Let me explain more concisely, then. Your millions, John Merrick, have
made you really famous, even in this wealthy metropolis. In the city and
at your club you must meet with men who have the _entrée_ to the most
desirable social circles: men who might be induced to introduce your
nieces to their families, whose endorsement would effect their proper
presentation."
"Nonsense."
"It isn't nonsense at all."
"Then blamed if I know what you're driving at."
"You're very obtuse."
"I won't agree to that till I know what 'obtuse' means. See here,
Martha; you say this social position, that the girls are so crazy
for--but they've never said anything to _me_ about it--can't be bought.
In the next breath you urge me to buy it. Phoo! You're a thoughtless,
silly woman, Martha, and let your wild ambitions run away with your
common sense."
Mrs. Merrick sighed, but stubbornly maintained her position.
"I don't suggest 'buying' such people; not at all, John. It's what is
called--ah--ah--'influence'; or, or--"
"Or 'pull.' 'Pull' is a better word, Martha. Do you imagine there's any
value in social position that can be acquired by 'pull'?"
"Of course. It has to be acquired some way--if one is not born to it. As
a matter of fact, Louise is entitled, through her connection with _my_
family--"
"Pshaw, I knew _your_ family, Martha," he interrupted. "An arrant lot of
humbugs."
"John Merrick!"
"Don't get riled. It's the truth. I _knew_ 'em. On her father's side
Louise has just as much to brag about--an' no more. We Merricks never
amounted to much, an' didn't hanker to trip the light fantastic in
swell society. Once, though, when I was a boy, I had a cousin who
spelled down the whole crowd at a spellin'-bee. We were quite proud of
him then; but he went wrong after his triumph, poor fellow! and became a
book agent. Now, Martha, I imagine this talk of yours is all hot air,
and worked off on me not because the girls want society, but because you
want it for 'em. It's all _your_ ambition, I'll bet a peanut."
"You misjudge me, as usual, John. I am urging a matter of simple
justice. Your nieces are lovely girls, fitted to shine in any sphere of
life," she continued, knowing his weak point and diplomatically
fostering it. "Our girls have youth, accomplishments, money--everything
to fit them for social triumphs. The winter season is now approaching;
the people are flocking back to town from their country homes;
fashionable gaieties and notable events will soon hold full sway. The
dear girls are surely entitled to enjoy these things, don't you think?
Aren't they _worthy_ the best that life has to offer? And why shouldn't
they enter society, if you do your full duty? Once get them properly
introduced and they will be able to hold their own with perfect ease.
Give me the credit for knowing these things, John, and try to help your
nieces to attain their ambition."
"But _is_ it their ambition?" he asked, doubtfully.
"They have not said so in words; but I can assure you it _is_ their
ambition, because all three are sensible, spirited, young women, who
live in this age and not the one you yourself knew a half century or so
ago."
Mr. Merrick sighed and rubbed his head again. Then he slowly rose.
"Mornin', Martha," he said, with a somewhat abstracted nod at his
sister-in-law. "This is a new idea to me. I'll think it over."