AUNT HANNAH
As soon as possible after breakfast William went to see Aunt Hannah.
Hannah Stetson was not really William's aunt, though she had been called Aunt Hannah for years. She was the widow of a distant cousin, and she lived in a snug little room in a Back Bay boarding-house. She was a slender, white-haired woman with kind blue eyes, and a lovable smile. Her cheeks were still faintly pink, and her fine silver-white hair broke into little kinks and curls about her ears. According to Bertram she always made one think of "lavender and old lace."She welcomed William cordially this morning, though with faint surprise in her eyes.
"Yes, I know I'm an early caller, and an unexpected one," began William, hurriedly. "And I shall have to plunge straight into the matter, too, for there isn't time to preamble. I've taken an eighteen-year-old girl to bring up, Aunt Hannah, and I want you to come down and live with us to chaperon her.""My grief and conscience, WILLIAM!" gasped the little woman, agitatedly.
"Yes, yes, I know, Aunt Hannah, everything you would say if you could. But please skip the hysterics. We've all had them, and Kate has already used every possible adjective that you could think up. Now it's just this." And he hurriedly gave Mrs. Stetson a full account of the case, and told her plainly what he hoped and expected that she would do for him.
"Why, yes, of course--I'll come," acquiesced the lady, a little breathlessly, "if--if you are sure you're going to--keep her.""Good! And remember I said 'now,' please--that I wanted you to come right away, to-day. Of course Kate can't stay. Just get in half a dozen women to help you pack, and come.""Half a dozen women in that little room, William--impossible!""Well, I only meant to get enough so you could come right off this morning.""But I don't need them, William. There are only my clothes and books, and such things. You know it is a FURNISHED room.""All right, all right, Aunt Hannah. I wanted to make sure you hurried, that's all. You see, I don't want Billy to suspect just how much she's upsetting us. I've asked Kate to take her over to her house for the day, while Bertram is moving down-stairs, and while we're getting you settled. I--I think you'll like it there, Aunt Hannah," added William, anxiously. "Of course Billy's got Spunk, but--" he hesitated, and smiled a little.
"Got what?" faltered the other.
"Spunk. Oh, I don't mean THAT kind," laughed William, in answer to the dismayed expression on his aunt's face. "Spunk is a cat.""A cat!--but such a name, William! I--I think we'll change that.""Eh? Oh, you do," murmured William, with a curious smile. "Very well; be that as it may. Anyhow, you're coming, and we shall want you all settled by dinner time," he finished, as he picked up his hat to go.
With Kate, Billy spent the long day very contentedly in Kate's beautiful Commonwealth Avenue home. The two boys, Paul, twelve years old, and Egbert, eight, were a little shy, it is true, and not really of much use as companions; but there was a little Kate, four years old, who proved to be wonderfully entertaining.
Billy was not much used to children, and she found this four-year-old atom of humanity to be a great source of interest and amusement. She even told Mrs. Hartwell at parting that little Kate was almost as nice as Spunk--which remark, oddly enough, did not appear to please Mrs. Hartwell to the extent that Billy thought that it would.
At the Beacon Street house Billy was presented at once to Mrs.
Stetson.
"And you are to call me 'Aunt Hannah,' my dear," said the little woman, graciously, "just as the boys do.""Thank you," dimpled Billy, "and you don't know, Aunt Hannah, how good it seems to me to come into so many relatives, all at once!"Upon going up-stairs Billy found her room somewhat changed. It was far less warlike, and the case of spiders had been taken away.
"And this will be your stratum, you know," announced Bertram from the stairway, "yours and Aunt Hannah's. You're to have this whole floor. Will and Cyril are above, and I'm down-stairs.""You are? Why, I thought you--were--here." Billy's face was puzzled.
"Here? Oh, well, I did have--some things here," he retorted airily; "but I took them all away to-day. You see, my stratum is down-stairs, and it doesn't do to mix the layers. By the way, you haven't been up-stairs yet; have you? Come on, and I'll show you--and you, too, Aunt Hannah."
Billy clapped her hands; but Aunt Hannah shook her head.
"I'll leave that for younger feet than mine," she said; adding whimsically: "It's best sometimes that one doesn't try to step too far off one's own level, you know.""All right," laughed the man. "Come on, Miss Billy."On the door at the head of the stairs he tapped twice, lightly.
"Well, Pete," called Cyril's voice, none too cordially.
"Pete, indeed!" scoffed Bertram. "You've got company, young man.
Open the door. Miss Billy is viewing the Strata."The bare floor echoed to a quick tread, then the door opened and Cyril faced them with a forced smile on his lips.
"Come in--though I fear there will be little--to see," he said.
Bertram assumed a pompous attitude.
