The mistress of Elmhurst always dressed
for this meal and tonight she wore a rich black silk and had her
invalid chair wheeled to her place at the head of the table. Uncle
John had simply changed his old black necktie for a soiled white one.
Otherwise his apparel was the same as before, and his stubby gray hair
was in a sad state of disarray. But his round face wore a cheerful
smile, nevertheless, and Aunt Jane seemed not to observe anything
_outre_ in her brother's appearance. And so the meal passed pleasantly
enough.
After it was finished Uncle John strolled into the garden to smoke his
pipe under the stars and Louise sang a few songs for Aunt Jane in the
dimly-lit drawing room. Beth, who was a music teacher's daughter,
could not sing at all.
It was some time later when John Merrick came to his sister's room to
bid her good night.
"Well," she asked him, "what do you think of the girls?"
"My nieces?"
"Yes."
"During my lifetime," said the old man, "I've always noticed that
girls are just girls--and nothing more. Jane, your sex is a puzzle
that ain't worth the trouble solving. You're all alike, and what
little I've seen of my nieces convinces me they're regulation
females--no better nor worse than their kind.
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