NEEDED IN THE FAMILY

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXV, Issue 1, 3 January 1907, Page 5

NEEDED IN THE FAMILY

It was a^- remarkably cool and pleasant room. A gentle Breeze fluttered the wnite muslin curtains, and* the roses on their tall bushes nodded across the win-dow-sills at the caller. The caller smiled back at them and drew a long breath of the delicately perfumed air. He was ar young mail who liked roses and green fields and the charm of the countryside. And he liked the restful quiet of the little sitting-room. He arose quickly as a lady entered the room. ' ' Good morning, madam..' ' Good morning.' ./c-'. /c- ' She was a slender lady of perhaps sixty, a grayliaJired' lady of an old-fashioned type, a lady of. much dignity of movement, „ and yet with a quick manner v that at times suggested the sprightliness of a bird. She pressed her gold T rimimed glasses a little closer to her nose and carefully surveyed the young man. ' I trust you are quite well, madam ? '- 1 Quite well.' She drew her thin Kps together. llf it's books,' she said, .- ' there isn't any use of your staying a minute longer.' The caller smiled. „ —^ ' I'm not a book agent,' he told her. • Is it apple corcrs ? ' - ' I'm not a -pedlar.' " - ' I bought an apple co'rer of . a young man who was something of your build most three years ago. It broke on th© second greening. He -, was a mite stouter, perhaps.' She paused and again regarded him attentively. ' If you 'are neither a. book, agent nor an apple corer,' she said, • you may take a chair.' y 'Thank. you, madam.' ~"~ He seated himself in the straight-backed chair she pointed out, and -then the lady took the rocker, placing herself where she could study the young man's face. 4 Is this- a business call ? ' •Yes, madam.' - He had been instructed how to meet the lady's advances. He. was to remain strictly oh the defensive and let her cross-examine at her leisure. • Wait. It ..isn't lightning rods ? ' . . ' No, madam.* ' Nor windmills ? •

He suddenly smiled, and - there was no doubt his smile added to ins agreeable appearance. .'That's a little nearer the truth, madam.' She looked at him sharply, with her gray -head on one side. - - - ;..__*■ < TVhat._do you mean ,by that y^. _, ... 'I only mean that 1 am a "lawyer, madam.' He - was - glad -to' see that she caught the point of the mild witticism at once. She , ' even . laughed softly. t - "^ * ' A lawyer ? ' she ectioed. * Then. I scent-trouble.' \I~ assure you 1 am quite harmless, madam.' She smiled a little- grimly." » ' 1 Well,' she said, with a slight asperity, ' you have been here now quite a spell and haven't told me a word about the business that brought you here, aod really northing worth, kiyowing abtfut -yourself.' 'Pardon 'me, madam,' he said; 'my name is'Richaid Barclay, and my home is in New York. \ am in the law office' of .Renfrew, Keene, -and Darnley, and -will be T admitted to a partnership in the firm the first of January.' ' There is not-hing very startling about that,' said • the lady. - ' Ferhaps in time you will get around to the. business that brought you here.' " ."'-'* ' Yes, madam. ' You have a "niece.' ' Oh, it's my niece you want to-sec ? ' 'No, madam; my ' business is with you.', 1 You are >.the _ strangest young man for beating around the bush 1 ever met. Why don't you say what you want and be~ done with it ? ' . 'Madam, I "want -your permission to marry your nie.ee.' , _ ' There, was a little silence, during which" the lady regarded the young man with. a steady gaze. ' I knew,' she presently said, ' that I was- taking great chances when Glare made that visit in New York with Louise Humphrey.' The young man wisely waited, but- the lady relapsed into silence. 'I haven't much to offer her, '-he said ; J at .least-: at present. I'm young and I'm^making^my way, and my chances seem. good. I can give Clare a modest home in a nice neighborhood, a home. in which "•there will -always be room for you, dear madam.'., '"""'.. , The lady slightly sniffed. . . :•.-,.-. ' You are getting ahead a little too fast, young man. I've" no thought of moving just at- present-. Does Clare know about this — this delightful"' arrangement ?-'" ' •*' - ' : -• - "Yes, madam.' ' ' ' It's all sctlled, then ? ' - - . -' No, madam. It all depends on you.' v Again the lady slightly sniffed. '^My "niece N was in New York just a month. During r that~ month you contrived to persuade yourself that she was the only gill in all the world you could ever care for. Did you, or did you not ?" 'I" did, madam.' --- - - ' ' Seems nonsensical, does-nt it ? ' 1 No, madam.' She shook her head at him - reprovingly. 1 You look like a fairly sensible young man. Does my niece reciprocate this— this fanciful attachment ? ' ' Yes, madam.' ' And she senfc you JjO me ? .'. - , • .- _ ' Yes, madam.' ~" " -- ' But why come to me if you are both agreed?' 'Clare "owes you too much, madam, /to do anything contrary to your approval.' ... " : ' Hoity-toity ! And suppose I refuse 1 ? '- 'We can wait, madam. 1 . 'That's just what you- should do. How silly this seems. You have met my niece twenty times, we'll say, and no doubt think her tlie one perfeetjlower of all girlhiood. Do I use the right expression ? ' , ' Yes, madam.' " , * ' ' She drew -the gray shawl a little closer. . Do you. appreciate what you are asking of me,?' she suddenly flamed out. ' What do we know , about you,? ' - . ' - ' ' Very little, madam. I can only tell you that I am clean and- honest, and have a . good profession.' «. That is what you say. ' Then her eyes suddenly - twinkled behind her glasses. ' I'll admit that I'm a little prejudiced in your favor, although you certainly are not as good-looking as Clare would have me believe.' And 1 like your letters.' ' Did Clare show them to you ? ' v 'How else could. I have seen them? They were not nearly, as. slushy as might have been expected.' r * .Thank" you.' / , 1 That one that told about the Italian child »In -.the police-court . was as good^ as a book. I'll admit' that Clare "and I both cried over it.' Sire— paused and drew a long breath. * It's very silly of me, I

know, but never having, had any love affair of my own it is natural I should feel an extra interest *in Clare I *.'. '.- "T . - — She took off her glasses and again f wiped them with much care, 'lie looked at her curiously.. ' I begin to have a'sjsuspicion,'' he said-. ' Of what 1± ' That you knew, me all the time.' - , The lady -laughed -softly^ . ' . ' I wasn't -particularly" startled by your appearance.' - -* '■- ' And you, didn't really take me for a book agent?' 1 No.' , , ' ' ' . - - 'Aunt Lucy,' said ,the young man, 'you certainly • ark a vciy "clever- woman.' ' Aunt" Lucy !' Hoity-toity !- You are taking a> good deal for granted', Richard Barclay. But, there, let's - be frank and straightforward. I promise you nothing. You will -stay and .take dinner with us,, and then we three will talk this all over. We are going- to 'be. perfectly Independent on our side, you understand. We may be poor— or at least very far from rich — but we^ are proud. We come by -it naturally. That's my father's picture . up there, Jethro Holt. He was "as # proud as a lord. 1 - . „, - The young 'man looked up quickly. ",; • ' What did you call his name ? ' . ' Jethro Holt.' ■ ' • The young man's eyes sparkled. "" \ _ - * Jethro Holt, of'-Petunia, Me.- Botn there in 1815 died in 1863- ' Why, yes v He was my- father.' The 3oung man. drew a narrow book from' his pocket and 'rapidly leafed it over. 1 Jethro Holt left three children, a boy and two girls, Arthur, Lucy, and EmiLy.' . ' Yes. I am Lucy Mellen Holt— commonly called Aunt Lucy Mellen. At * least that's what Clare has called me ever since she could ' talk. Emily was Clare's mother. She died -when Clare was a baby X and Clare's .father, died the year after.' The young man stared hard .-'at her. - ' Can you'f prove" this relationship ? ' ' Why, yes, of course.. 1 have the old family' Bible and many letters and, my" father's picture and . the deed of" the .old home. »- >. ' He drew a quick breath.. - ' This is wonderful,' he" said. ' Tell me about your brother.' • "___. . IHe was older than" I— nine years older. He~ was a wayward boy, and greatly worried my father. When he was eighteen he ran away from home and shipped on a "whaler. 'The ship was t lost in the Pacific and all the crew were reported drowned.' 1 Your brother escaped,' said the young man. 'He" was picked up by a Russian sealer' and landed at a Siberian port. He found his to Australia, and roughed it' as a sheep herder. .There, through some mad fancy, he changed his name. ,He was no longer Arthur Holt ; he k was- Henry Harlan. He became a trader and prospered; he -. prospered greatly. Finally he made his residence in ,New York. He lived there tweiitj r years. He died there seven months ago.' X The ladyf a strange look in her eyes, stirred sud- ' denly.^- - - - 'And that man was- my- brother ?.' ' Yes> ' \ " ' » , She sighed. 'My poor brother.' The young man leaned forward. . 'Oh,' he said, 'we have searched " for you in so * many places ! The head of our • firm was your brother's attorney and one of the executors of the estate. The matter of finding the Heirs was" placed in -my hands. ' I have travelled many miles on false clues. I have advertised., in many sections-r-an-d now to stumble on you like this.' ' Then we are heirs to his property?" said "the lady. ' • - • - "He died without a will. You and Clare are his' ' only living. kin.' • • " •. •> .' Does ' that mean we are rich: ? ' • * - ' Very, very rich.' -» They were both silent for a "moment or two. Then .the lady sighed. : ~ - ~ • 'That comes a little"" late for me,' she softly said- ' but it will be beautiful for Clare.' . A troubled look crossed the' young man's face. ' Clare,' he murmured. . ' This' changes everything.' . ' What do you mean"? ' 'Don't ycru see ? c C.lare is now a great ' heiress. ' A new world opens before her. She can choose where she will.' 1 True,' said the' lady.

•' ' It , puts me in a painful, a false position^' Why, even you might believe that- 1 knew her relationship to Henry Harlan before" 1 asked her to tie- my wife.' -- : ' True,' said- the lady again. . - - - ,> •< ' Such a suspicion is shameful, ' he went 'on. ' The one manly, thing for jiie.,io do is^ fa T release- .Glare from her promise.' ' . . ' - The lady arose and went to the window. - It was plain that she was agitated, by his, startling, news. Presently she beckoned" to Him. ' ' ' Here,', she said. 'Do you see that young woman coming up the roadway-?. -'1 hat' is the' great- heiress. , And she's _ something much better 'than that. " She's a sweet and lovable- girl, whose v womanly heart can't be spoiled by any amount of money. "I know •. her , better than any other .living person, Richard' Barclay, and I tell you you have, nothing „to- fear.' She turned and looked at him and laid a . slender hand ,on bis shoulder.. " Besides ' she began. N " " '. Yes,"" dear lady.' She softly laughed. ' It , really, looks as if we ought to have a 'lawyer" in the family.— Exchange.. -*„-'"