Aunt Patty's Paying Guests by Eglanton Thorne

MY hopes were doomed to disappointment. Aunt Clara wrote that Agneta would be only too pleased to share my room, as she had a nervous dread of sleeping alone in a strange place. So I had to resign myself to the inevitable, and I tried to do it with as good a grace as possible. Aunt Clara said that she would like Agneta to join us in the following week; thus my room had soon to be prepared for another occupant. There was ample space in it for two bedsteads, and aunt had everything arranged very comfortably, but for me, its charm had gone when it was no longer my own sanctum.

"It may not be for long, Nan," my aunt said, reading my thoughts, as together we inspected the new arrangements. "I cannot tell how long these guests will remain with me. I naturally hope they will stay all the summer, but I shall be exceptionally fortunate if they do. When there is another room vacant Agneta shall have it."

"You forget that she does not like to sleep alone," I said. "Oh, it will be all right, auntie. I dare say we shall get on nicely together, and it will be better for you, for then you can let the vacant room to some one else."

"If any one else wants it," said Aunt Patty smiling. "I am really very thankful to have all my rooms occupied. It makes things much easier, and it might have been so different."

That day I received a box from home. It struck me as a curious coincidence, when I perceived that it contained the evening gown that had belonged to my cousin, but was now to be worn by me. I had asked Olive to send it as soon as possible, for I felt altogether too dowdy of an evening in contrast with Paulina's splendour, to say nothing of Miss Cottrell's tasteless efforts at display. Veiled with black grenadine, and finished with dainty frills and furbelows by Olive's clever fingers, the pink gown was so transformed, that I doubted if even its former wearer would recognise it. As I examined it, I remembered the spots we had seen on the bodice, which Olive had declared to be tears. Surely she was mistaken!

Then I saw that Olive had pinned a little note to the sleeve.

"Dearest Nan," she wrote, "I do hope you will like this frock. I really feel that I have succeeded beyond my hopes. Last night I tried it on, and even mother said it was very pretty, while Peggy grew green with envy, and declares she shall ask Aunt Patty to have her another year. Is it not funny to think that you will wear it before the eyes of its former owner? I hardly think, though, that she will know it again. We were so surprised to hear of Aunt Clara's plan, and only think, Agneta is to break her journey in London, and will stay a night here, so we shall all see her! Aunt Clara gives a poor account of her though, says she is nervous, depressed, excitable, and difficult to manage at home, and hints that it is all owing to a 'foolish fancy' for a man who is a 'sad detrimental. ' Poor little cousin to have lost her heart so soon, and to one of whom her parents disapprove! Peggy says that it makes her as interesting as the heroine of a penny novelette. We all look forward to seeing her, and mother is going to write and ask her to stay a few days with us. Do write soon and say how you like the frock and tell us the latest about Pollie Dicks."

"Your loving sister,"

"OLIVE."

"So those were tears! " I said to myself, as I folded up Olive's letter. "Poor Agneta! I wonder what the 'sad detrimental' is like. She is to be sent down here to be well out of his way. Probably it is not so much that Manchester does not suit her, as that it does not suit Aunt Clara to keep her in Manchester just now. I wonder how she likes being banished to this rural solitude. " And I, as well as my sisters, began to look forward with some curiosity to making our cousin's acquaintance.

We expected Agneta about the middle of the week, but mother succeeded in keeping her for a day or two, and sent us word that she would come on Saturday. An early train was named, and Aunt Patty asked me to drive into Chelmsford in the "sociable" and meet my cousin at the station. It was a lovely day, and I ran cheerfully to get ready. I was so glad that Agneta should arrive on a day when "Gay Bowers" was looking its best. Already there were roses opening their pink petals against the wall of the house, and the flower-beds were bright with scarlet geraniums and verbenas. Through the staircase window I caught sight of Miss Cottrell's garden hat away in the corner to which she devoted her energies, and was glad to think that she was engaged in gardening. Paulina, I knew, was busy with letters, which she meant to "mail" later, so I hoped to get off by myself on this occasion.

But I congratulated myself too soon. When I came downstairs the carriage was not yet at the door, but Miss Cottrell came hurrying in from the garden.

"Are you going to Chelmsford to meet your cousin? " she asked.

"Yes," I answered, putting on my gloves with an air of haste.

"Can I go with you? " she asked. "I want to change my book at the railway stall."

"You had better let me do that for you," I said. "I must be off in three minutes."

"Oh, but I can be ready in that time," she said, "and there are other things I want to do in town."

"Very well, if you will not make me late for the train," I said coldly.

I felt sure that nothing short of telling her I did not want her would deliver me from her company.

She was back again almost as soon as the conveyance drove up. She had changed her hat and added a gauzy ruffle, which was rather incongruous, to the morning blouse which so ill-became her heavy thick-set figure. She looked an odd individual, and I could not help wondering what Agneta would think of her.