CHAPTER VII
AN UNWELCOME GUEST
"I don't believe that old tramp's my great-uncle," said Philip Ross tohimself, but he felt uneasy, nevertheless.
It hurt his pride to think that he should have such a shabby relation, and he resolved to ascertain by inquiry from his mother whether therewere any grounds for the old man's claim.
He came into the house just after Uncle Obed had been shown upstairs bythe servant, not to the spare room, but to a small, inconvenient bedroomon the third floor, next to the one occupied by the two servants.
"Mother," asked Philip, "is it really true?"
"Is what really true?"
"That that shabby old man is any relation of ours?"
"I don't know with certainty," answered his mother. "He says he is, but
I shouldn't have known him."
"Did you have any uncle in Illinois?"
"Yes, I believe so," Mrs. Ross admitted, reluctantly.
"You always said you were of a high family," said Philip, reproachfully.
Mrs. Ross blushed, for she did not like to admit that her pretensions toboth were baseless. She was not willing to admit it now, even toPhilip.
"It is true," she replied, in some embarrassment; "but there's always ablack sheep in every flock."
Poor Obed! To be called a black sheep – a hard-working, steady-going manas he had been all his life.
"But my mother's brother, Obed, strange to say, was always rustic anduncouth, and so he was sent out to Illinois to be a farmer. We thoughtthat the best place for him – that he would live and die there; but now, in the most vexatious manner in the world, he turns up here."
"He isn't going to stay here, is he?" asked Philip, in dismay.
"No; we must get rid of him some way. I must say it was a very coolproceeding to come here without an invitation, expecting us to supporthim."
This was a gratuitous assumption on the part of Mrs. Ross.
"I suppose he's very poor. He doesn't look as if he had a cent. Ipresume he is destitute, and expects us to take care of him."
"You'd better send him packing, mother."
"I suppose we shall have to do something for him," said Mrs. Ross, in atone of disgust. "I shall advise your father to buy a ticket for him, and send him back to Illinois."
"That'll be the best way, mother. Start him off to-morrow, if you can."
"I won't keep him long, you may be sure of that."
By this time Colonel Ross had reached home, and his wife communicated tohim the unwelcome intelligence of Uncle Obed's arrival, and advised himas to the course she thought best to pursue.
"Poor old man!" said the colonel, with more consideration than his wifeor son possessed. "I suppose he felt solitary out there."
"That isn't our lookout," said Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "It's rightenough to say poor old man. He looks as poor as poverty. He'll be betteroff in Illinois."
"Perhaps you are right, but I wouldn't like to send him offempty-handed. I'll buy his ticket, and give him fifty dollars, so thathe need not suffer."
"It seems to me that is too much. Twenty dollars, or ten, would beliberal."
The cold-hearted woman seemed to forget the years during which her unclehad virtually supported her.
"No, Lucinda; I shall give him fifty."
"You should think of your son, Colonel Ross," said his wife. "Don'timpoverish him by your foolish generosity."
Colonel Ross shrugged his shoulders.
"Philip will have all the money that will be good for him," he said.
"Very well; as you please. Only get him off as soon as you can. It ismortifying to me to have such a looking old man here claimingrelationship to me."
"He is your uncle, Lucinda, and you must mention the plan to him."
"Very well."
It was a task which Mrs. Ross did not shrink from, for she had no fearof hurting the feelings of Uncle Obed, or, rather, she did not carewhether he chose to feel hurt or not.
Uncle Obed was called down to supper, and took his seat at the handsometea table, with its silver service. Colonel Ross, to his credit be itsaid, received his wife's uncle much more cordially than his own niecehad done, and caused Uncle Obed's face to beam with pleasure.
"Railly, Lucinda," said Uncle Obed, as he looked over the table, "youhave a very comfortable home, I declare."
"Yes, we try to have things comfortable around us," answered Mrs. Ross, coldly.
"Years ago, when you and your mother lived out in Illinoy, I didn'tthink you'd come to live in a house like this."
"Yes, people live in an outlandish way out there," said Mrs. Ross.
"But they have happy homes. When Mary lived, I enjoyed life, though theold farmhouse seemed rough and plain, compared with your handsome home. I'm glad to see my sister's child living so well, with all the comfortsthat money can buy."
The old man's tone was hearty, and there was a smile of genuine pleasureon his rugged face. He was forced to admit that his niece was not ascordial as he hoped, but, then, "Lucinda was always reserved andquiet-like," he said to himself, and so excused her.
It must be said for Colonel Ross that he knew comparatively little abouthis wife's early life, and didn't dream of the large obligations she wasunder to Uncle Obed. He was a rich man, and the consciousness of wealthled him to assume airs of importance, but he was not as cold orheartless as his wife, and would have insisted on his wife's treatingher uncle better had he known the past. Even as it was, he was much moregracious and affable than Mrs. Ross to the old man, whom he had neverseen before.
As for Philip, he was a second edition of his mother, and neveraddressed a word to Uncle Obed. When the latter spoke to him, heanswered in monosyllables.
"Nancy, you may leave the room. I'll call you if I want you."
This was what Mrs. Ross said to the servant, fearing that Uncle Obedmight refer to her early poverty, and that the girl might talk about itin the neighborhood.
Though Colonel Ross made conversation easy for him, Uncle Obed could nothelp feeling the coldness of his niece.
"Lucindy might treat me better," he thought, "after what I did for herin her early days. But I see how it is; she's ashamed of them, and Iwon't say anything to make her feel bad. I see I must look elsewhere fora home. Lucindy don't want me here, and I shouldn't feel at home myself. I wish Philip was more like that Harry Gilbert, who showed me the wayhere."
Supper was over, and Philip took up his hat to go out.
"Philip," said his father, "you forget that your uncle is here. Youshould stay to keep him company."
"I've got an engagement," said Philip, alarmed at the suggestion.
"Can't you put it off?"
"Let the boy keep his engagement," said Uncle Obed. "I like to see youngpeople particular about keeping their appointments."
"Your uncle may like to walk out with you, and see something of thevillage."
Philip looked dismayed at the prospect of being seen in the company ofthe rather shabby old man, who claimed to be his great-uncle.
"No, no," said Uncle Obed. "I can find the way round by myself. A manthat's used to the Western prairies doesn't get lost easily."
Philip breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time he began to thinkthat Uncle Obed had some sensible ideas.
Uncle Obed took his hat and cane, and walked out slowly, making his wayalong the principal street.
"I wish I could see that boy Harry Gilbert," he thought to himself – fora new plan had occurred to him. "Why, bless me, there he is now," hesaid, as our hero turned the next corner.
"Good-evening, sir," said Harry, cheerfully.
"Good-evening, Harry. You're just the one I was wanting to see. I've gotsomething to say to you."
What Uncle Obed had to say was of importance, but must be deferred tothe next chapter.
CHAPTER VIII
UNCLE OBED MAKES A PROPOSAL
Harry waited to hear what the old man had to say.
"How do you and my grandnephew hitch horses?" asked Uncle Obed.
"You mean how do we get along together?" asked Harry.
"Yes."
"Well, we are not bosom friends. Philip thinks I am a poor, working boy, and looks down on me accordingly."
"It don't do you a mite of harm to work. I had to work when I was a boy, and I've done my share of work since I got to be a man."
"I like to work," said Harry. "I only wish I had the chance."
"So there is no love lost between you and Philip?"
"No; he doesn't suit me any better than I suit him. He's got too highnotions for me."
"He's like his mother," said Uncle Obed. "I reckon she and Philip ain'tvery glad to see me. It's different with the colonel. He's a nice man, but he seems to be under his wife's thumb."
Harry did not reply. It was only what he expected, from what he knew of
Mrs. Ross and her son.
"I hope it won't be unpleasant for you," said he, in a tone ofsympathy.
"It's a kind of disappointment," the old man admitted. "I was hopingLucindy would be like her mother, and I could have a home with my ownfolks the rest of my life."
"Poor man," thought Harry. "He's old and destitute, and it must be atrial for him to find himself so coldly received."
"I wish," he said, impulsively, "we were richer."
"Why?" asked Uncle Obed.
"Because we'd offer you a home. But, unfortunately," continued Harry, with a sigh, "we don't know how we are to pay our own expenses."
The old man looked gratified.
"I wish you were my nephew, instead of Philip," he said. "You've got agood mother, I take it."
"She's one of the best mothers in the world," said Harry, earnestly.
"I might have known it. Such boys as you always have good mothers. Supposing I was able to pay my share of the expenses, do you think yourmother would give me a home?"
"I am sure she would," said Harry, who could not help feeling interestin the homely, but good-hearted, old man. "But I thought – " here hehesitated.
"You thought I was destitute, didn't you?" asked Uncle Obed, with asmile.
"Yes, sir."
"I'm thankful to Providence that I'm not. I've got enough to pay my wayfor the few years that remain to me. My niece might treat me differentif she knew it, but I'd rather she'd think I was in need."
"Shall I speak to my mother about your coming?" asked Harry.
"Yes; but I won't come just yet. I want to see how Lucindy'll act. Shewants to get rid of me, and she'll be saying something soon. Like asnot, she'll offer to pay my fare back to Illinoy," and the shrewd oldman, who had hit the truth, laughed.
"Very well, sir, I'll speak to mother. We've got a nice room that we'vekept for a spare chamber, where I'm sure you'd be comfortable."
"I don't much care now what Lucindy says or does," said the old man, cheerfully. "If Philip won't have me for a great-uncle, I'll have toadopt you in his place, and I guess I'll make a good exchange."
"Thank you, sir. I shall try to treat you as a nephew ought.
Good-evening."
"That's a good boy," said Uncle Obed to himself. "I wish he was mynephew. Somehow, that stuck-up Philip, with his high-and-mighty airs, doesn't seem at all kin to me."
Harry went home in excellent spirits. It would be of advantage to themto have a boarder, as it would give them a steady, even if small, income.
"I wonder what he'll be able to pay?" he said to himself. "If he pays asmuch as I used to get – four dollars a week – it'll make us all right, forI'm sure of earning as much as two dollars a week, even if I don't get aplace."
His mother brightened up, too, when Harry told her of the prospect thatopened up of making up for his lost wages. It was a timely help, andboth mother and son regarded it as such.
CHAPTER IX
NOTICE TO QUIT
"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 ridof Uncle Obed as soon as she could.
She had always claimed to be of high family, and to have been brought upin the same style in which she was now living, and here was a witnesswho could disprove all she had said.
No one knew better than Uncle Obed that she had been very poor in herearly days, for it was he who, out of his small means, had contributedto support her mother and herself. Any day he might refer to those yearsof poverty; and Mrs. Ross felt that she should expire of mortificationif her servants should hear of them. Farewell, then, to her aristocraticclaims, for she knew well enough that they would be ready enough tospread the report, which would soon reach the ears of all heracquaintances. By way of precaution she took an opportunity ofpresenting 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 outin falsehood.
"Yes, Nancy, I confess that he is. There is a black sheep in everyfamily, 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 triedto polish him by sending him to expensive schools, but it was no use. Hetook no interest in books, and wouldn't go to college" – Uncle Obed wouldhave opened his eyes if he had heard this – "and so grandpa bought him afarm, and set him up in business as a farmer. He was rather shiftless, and preferred the company of his farm laborers to going into thefashionable society the rest of the family moved in; and so all his lifehe 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 verymortifying to me to have him come here – so different as he is from therest 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 topay his fare back to Illinois, and give him a pension, if he reallyneeds it. I dare say he has lost his farm, and is destitute, for henever knew how to take care of money."
"That would be very kind of you and the colonel, mum," said Nancy, whodidn't believe half her mistress was saying, but thought it might be forher interest to pretend she did.
"By the way, Nancy, I think I shall not need any more the mantilla youlike 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 waswell 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 ofthe valuable mantilla. I grudge it to her, but it is best to guard heragainst any of Uncle Obed's stories, at any cost. I must get rid of himas soon as I can."
Colonel Ross wished his wife to postpone speaking for a week, but thisshe 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 wasover, 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 whatmakes you call me Mr. Wilkins? When you were a little girl, and cameover 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 sofamiliarly," 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 youdon'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 Ifelt lonesome."
"Still, as you hadn't seen us for so many years, we are almost the sameas 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 wasgoing to say you wouldn't be happy here. We don't as you were accustomedto do; and, in fact, it would be inconvenient for us to have a newinmate. 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 Iwas pretty quiet. As to the work, you've got two girls to help in thekitchen."
"Yes; but there's a certain amount of care that falls upon me which youcan't understand."
"I hope you won't alter your living for me, Lucindy. I'm one of your ownfolks, and I don't mind a picked-up dinner now and then."
"The ridiculous old man," thought Mrs. Ross, impatiently. "As if I'dalter my style of living for a destitute old man that looks as ifhe'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 havecompany."
"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 shallhave to speak more plainly. Indeed," said she, "I was surprised youshould come in upon us without writing, or inquiring whether it would beconvenient 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, "butyou will be much happier in your old home than here."
"I ought to be the best judge of that, Lucindy," said the old man, withdignity.
"Perhaps not. People can't always judge best for themselves."
"Perhaps not; but I am going to try the experience of staying here awhile."
"I have already told you that it will not be convenient for you to stayhere. Colonel Ross will pay your fare back to Illinois, and that, I amsure, is quite as much as he ought to do."
"Lucindy," said Uncle Obed, "you seem to have forgotten the years Ifreely helped you and your poor mother. However, if you don't care toremember them, I won't refer to them."
Mrs. Ross had the grace to be ashamed, but was not moved in herresolution to get rid of her uncle.
"Of course," she said, "I don't forget the past. We will help pay yourboard in some town at a distance."
"Why at a distance?"
"Because, if you were here, people might think it strange you didn'tstay with us, and my health won't admit that."
"I'm much obliged for your offer, Lucindy, but I prefer to make my ownarrangements. 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 alreadyselected 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 withMrs. Gilbert. This was unwelcome news, because it would be a help to afamily she disliked; but Uncle Obed was proof against any insinuationsshe was able to bring against Harry and his mother, and the day after hetransferred himself to the clean and airy chamber in Mrs. Gilbert'scottage.
"This will just suit me," said the old man, looking about him with apleased expression. "I like this room much better than the one my niecegave 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 nowit'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 notlook 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 yousix 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 herthought. "Yes; I have a little something, though you might not think itfrom my clothes. When my trunk comes – I left it at a hotel in NewYork – I will dress a little better; but I wanted to try an experimentwith 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 anda one.
"It will make me feel very easy," said Mrs. Gilbert, gratefully, "evenif 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 letpeople know how much board I pay. If Mrs. Ross chooses to think I amvery 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 sovaluable a boarder. Six dollars a week would go a long way in theirlittle household.
It gave him fresh courage in his efforts to obtain a place, for he knewthat, even if it was deferred, his mother would not suffer from thedelay.