Aunt Patty's Paying Guests by Eglanton Thorne

"I BEGIN to think that the money I have spent on advertisements is just money thrown away," said Aunt Patty, rather ruefully one morning as we sat in the breakfast-room at the close of our early meal.

I looked up from the letter which had absorbed my attention. It was a lively and lengthy epistle from Peggy, giving me all the home news, and I had been so delighted to get it that I failed to observe that the post had brought my aunt nothing. It was very disappointing. During the whole of the past week, the advertisement to which we had given so much thought had appealed to people from the columns of London newspapers, and not a single person had been moved to respond to it. To be sure, the weather had not been such as to make the idea of visiting the country attractive. The March winds had been sharp and boisterous, and sudden squalls were often accompanied by sleet.

"People are waiting till the weather becomes more spring-like," I said. "It is a pity that it continues so cold, and Easter falling next week."

"Yes," said Aunt Patty with a sigh. "I am afraid I have been in too great a hurry. It would have been better to have waited a few weeks before advertising."

The past week had been a trying time for Aunt Patty. Certain business transactions had taken place. The greater part of the land which had belonged to Uncle George, and his father before him, was now the property of Squire Canfield. He had also purchased a good deal of the farm stock, and the rest had been sold by auction at Chelmsford. I hardly realised all that this meant to Aunt Patty. It did not seem to me to make much difference to her, since the house and garden and the grounds immediately adjoining still belonged to her. But I knew she had felt it deeply, and now, as I saw her troubled air, I tried to comfort her.

"It seems rather warmer this morning," I said. "I believe the weather is going to change. We shall have some applications soon, auntie, I feel sure. Would you like me to go into Chelmsford this afternoon, and inquire at the post-office?"

We had only one postal delivery a day at "Gay Bowers," so if we went into town we never failed to visit the post-office, that we might obtain any letters that might have arrived by a later post.

"I am afraid it would only be another disappointment," said Aunt Patty, "and it is hardly worth while to have the horse and trap out for that."

"How I wish I had a bicycle! " I said. "Now that the winds have dried the roads, I could spin into Chelmsford and back in no time."

"Then you can ride? " aunt said.

"Oh, yes; Olive taught me, and she often lends me her bicycle-she is very good-natured about it. You know Mrs. Smythe gave her one because she thought she did not take sufficient exercise."

"I wish I could give you one, my dear," said Aunt Patty gently.

"Oh, auntie, don't say that! " I replied. "I don't care so much about it, only I thought it would be convenient just now if I had one."

"I tell you what you could do if you liked, dear," said my aunt, "not that I think it will make any difference as far as the advertisement is concerned, but there is a business letter I am anxious to receive which may come in by the second post. You might step over to the Vicarage, and ask Jack to call at the post-office for us as he comes back from Chelmsford."

"That I will," I said as I rose from the table, "and I must go at once or Jack will have started. He has to be at his tutor's by ten."

I put on my hat and coat, and went out. The breeze which met me and blew out my skirts was fresh and strong, but its keen edge had gone. The sun was breaking through the ragged grey clouds that were scudding across the sky. Its rays glorified a bed of crocuses, and by the gate, sheltered by the high garden wall, I found the first daffodil. I had been watching for days the green, swelling buds, but not till now had I seen the gleam of gold. Stooping to lift the drooping head, I gazed at it with exquisite delight. How different it was in its dainty freshness from any daffodil I had ever bought in London!

"I shall learn to love gardening if I stay here long enough! " I said to myself as I went on my way.

Turning to the right and following the winding of the lane, I came in a few minutes to Greentree Church, a picturesque, red-bricked building with a pointed steeple. A peaceful churchyard lay about it, with many old tombstones, grey and defaced by age, some bearing curiously worded epitaphs. A little beyond the church was the Vicarage, a beautiful old house, built of red brick, which had long taken on the rich, mellow hue of age. A magnificent cedar adorned the lawn, and an almond tree, breaking into blossom, overhung the gate. The trees and shrubs which grew within were rather too luxuriant, a sign of bad gardening, for flowers could not flourish beneath their heavy shade, and the garden had rather a neglected appearance. The Vicar cared nothing for flowers, nor did Jack concern himself about their culture, though he always evinced what I believed to be an unfeigned interest in Aunt Patty's garden.

The phaeton stood before the door of the house as I approached. Jack's dogs ran barking to meet me, and he came quickly from the house to see why they were making such a commotion.

"Oh, Nan, you are an early visitor-but only just in time! " he exclaimed, looking as pleased as if he had not seen me for a year, whereas he had been at "Gay Bowers" on the previous day. Jack was the most friendly and sociable of beings. It was a striking instance of the irony of fate that such a one should share this quiet home with a father who was always immersed in his books. Aunt Patty's guests, when they came, would have a welcome from Jack.