CHAPTER V
PREPARING FOR THE PLUNGE
John Merrick lived with the Doyles at their Willing Square apartments.There were but two of the Doyles--Patricia and her father, Major Doyle,a tall, handsome, soldierly man with white moustache and hair. The Majorwas noted as a "character," a keen wit and a most agreeable type of the"old Irish gentleman." He fairly worshipped his daughter, and no oneblamed him for it. His business, as special agent and manager for hisbrother-in-law's millions, kept the Major closely occupied and affordedJohn Merrick opportunity to spend his days as be pleased. The rich manwas supposed to be "retired," yet the care of his investments and incomewas no light task, as the Major found.
We are accustomed to regard extreme wealth as the result of hard-headedshrewdness, not wholly divorced from unscrupulous methods, yet no onecould accuse John Merrick or his representative with being other thankindly, simple-hearted and honest. Uncle John says that he neverintended to "get rich"; it was all the result of carelessness. He hadbeen so immersed in business that he failed to notice how fast hisfortune was growing. When he awoke to a realization of his immenseaccumulation he promptly retired, appointing Major Doyle to look afterhis investments and seeking personal leisure after many years of hardwork. He instructed his agent to keep his income from growing into morecapital by rendering wise assistance to all worthy charities andindividuals, and this, as you may suppose, the Major found a herculeantask. Often he denounced Uncle John for refusing to advise him, claimingthat the millionaire had selfishly thrust the burden of his wealth onthe Major's broad shoulders. While there was an element of truth in thisthe burden it was not so heavy as to make the old soldier unhappy, andthe two men loved and respected one another with manly cordiality.
Patricia was recognized as Uncle John's favorite niece and it wasunderstood she was to inherit the bulk of his property, although somemillions might be divided between Beth and Louise "if they marriedwisely." Neither Uncle John nor the Major ever seemed to considerPatsy's marrying; she was such a child that wedlock for her seemed aremote possibility.
The Sunday afternoon following Diana Von Taer's visit to the threenieces found the girls all congregated in Patsy's own room, where anearnest discussion was being conducted. That left Uncle John to take hisafter-dinner nap in the big Morris chair in the living room, where MajorDoyle sat smoking-sulkily while he gazed from the window and begrudgedthe moments Patsy was being kept from him.
Finally the door opened and the three girls trooped out.
"Huh! Is the conspiracy all cut-an'-dried?" growled the Major.
Uncle John woke up with a final snort, removed the newspaper from hisface and sat up. He smiled benignantly upon his nieces.
"It's all your fault, sor!" declared Major Doyle, selecting the littlemillionaire as the safest recipient of his displeasure. "Yourfoolishness has involved us all in this dreadful complication. Why onearth couldn't you leave well-enough alone?"
Uncle John received the broadside with tolerant equanimity.
"What's wrong; my dears?" he enquired, directing his mild glance towardthe bevy of young girls.
"I am unaware that anything is wrong, Uncle," replied Louise gravely."But since we are about to make our debut in society it is natural weshould have many things to discuss that would prove quite uninterestingto men. Really, Uncle John, this is a great event--perhaps the mostimportant event of our lives."
"Shucks an' shoestrings!" grunted the Major. "What's in thispaper-shelled, painted, hollow thing ye call 'society' to interest threehealthy, wide-awake girls? Tell me that!"
"You don't understand, dear," said Patsy, soothing him with a kiss.
"I think he does," remarked Beth, with meditative brows. "Modern societyis a man-made--or woman-made--condition, to a large extent artificial,selfish and unwholesome."
"Oh, Beth!" protested Louise. "You're talking like a rank socialist. Ican understand common people sneering at society, which is so far out oftheir reach; but a girl about to be accepted in the best circles has noright to rail at her own caste."
"There can be no caste in America," declared Beth, stubbornly.
"But there _is_ caste in America, and will be so long as theexclusiveness of society is recognized by the people at large,"continued Louise. "If it is a 'man-made condition' isn't it the mostrespected, most refined, most desirable condition that one may attainto?"
"There are plenty of honest and happy people in the world who ignoresociety altogether," answered Beth. "It strikes me that your socialstars are mighty few in the broad firmament of humanity."
"But they're stars, for all that, dear," said Uncle John, smiling at herwith a hint of approval in his glance, yet picking up the argument; "andthey look mighty big and bright to the crowd below. It's quite natural.You can't keep individuals from gaining distinction, even in America.There are few generals in an army, for instance; and they're 'man-made';but that's no reason the generals ain't entitled to our admiration."
"Let's admire 'em, then--from a distance," retorted the Major, realizingthe military simile was employed to win his sympathy.
"Certain things, my dear Major, are naturally dear to a girl's heart,"continued Uncle John, musingly; "and we who are not girls have no rightto condemn their natural longings. Girls love dancing, pink teas andfudge-parties, and where can they find 'em in all their perfection butin high society? Girls love admiration and flirtations--you do, mydears; you can't deny it--and the male society swells have the most timeto devote to such things. Girls love pretty dresses--"
"Oh, Uncle! you've hit the nail on the head now," exclaimed Patsy,laughing. "We must all have new gowns for this reception, and as we'reto assist Miss Von Taer the dresses must harmonize, so to speak,and--and--" "And be quite suited to the occasion," broke in Louise;"and--"
"And wear our lives out with innumerable fittings," concluded Beth,gloomily.
"But why new dresses?" demanded the Major. "You've plenty of old onesthat are clean and pretty, I'm sure; and our Patsy had one from thedressmaker only last week that's fit for a queen."
"Oh, Daddy! you don't understand," laughed Patsy.
"This time, Major, I fear you don't," agreed Beth. "Your convictionsregarding society may be admirable, but you're weak on the gownquestion."
"If the women would only listen to me," began the Major, dictatorially;but Uncle John cut him short.
"They won't, sir; they'll listen to no man when it comes todressmaking."
"Don't they dress to captivate the men, then?" asked the Major, withfine sarcasm.
"Not at all," answered Louise, loftily. "Men seldom know what a womanhas on, if she looks nice; but women take in every detail of dress andcriticise it severely if anything happens to be out of date, illfitting or in bad taste."
"Then they're in bad taste themselves!" retorted the Major, hotly.
"Tut-tut, sir; who are you to criticise woman's ways?" asked Uncle John,much amused. The Major was silenced, but he glared as if unconvinced.
"Dressmaking is a nuisance," remarked Beth, placidly; "but it's thepenalty we pay for being women."
"You're nothing but slips o' girls, not out of your teens," grumbled theMajor. And no one paid any attention to him.
"We want to do you credit, Uncle John," said Patsy, brightly. "Perhapsour names will be in the papers."
"They're there already," announced Mr. Merrick, picking up the Sundaypaper that lay beside him.
A chorus of exclamations was followed by a dive for the paper, and eventhe Major smiled grimly as he observed the three girlish heads closetogether and three pair of eager eyes scanning swiftly the societycolumns.
"Here it is!" cried Patsy, dancing up and down like a school-girl; andLouise read in a dignified voice--which trembled slightly withexcitement and pleasure--the following item:
"Miss Von Taer will receive next Thursday evening at the family mansionin honor of Miss Merrick, Miss Doyle and Miss De Graf. These threecharming _debutantes_ are nieces of John Merrick, the famous tin-platemagnat
e."
"Phoo!" growled the Major, during the impressive hush that followed;"that's it, exactly. Your names are printed because you're JohnMerrick's nieces. If it hadn't been for tin-plate, my dears, societynever would 'a' known ye at all, at all!"
Aunt Jane's Nieces in Society Page 5