The Lady of the Basement Flat | Page 3

that fact has already penetrated to my
dull brain!"
"Now I do hope and pray, Evelyn, that you are not going to argue with
me," cried Aunt Emmeline, with a sudden access of energy which was
positively startling. "It's ridiculous saying that because there is only one
mistress instead of two, expense will therefore be halved. I have kept
house for thirty-three years, and have never once allowed an order at
the door, so I may be supposed to know. Nonsense! The rent is the
same, I suppose, and the rates, and the taxes. You must sit down to a
decent meal even if you are alone, and it takes the same fire to cook
four potatoes as eight. Your garden must be kept going, and if you do
away with one horse, you still require a groom, I suppose, to look after
the rest. Don't talk to me of economising; you'd be up to your neck in
debt before a year was over--if you weren't in a lunatic asylum with
nervous depression, living alone in that hole-in-a-corner old house,
with not a soul but servants to speak to from morning till night. You
have a nervous temperament, Evelyn. You may not realise it, but I
remember as a child how you used to fidget and dash about. Dear
Kathie sat still and sucked her thumb. I said at the time, `Evelyn is
better-looking, but mark my words, Kathie will be married first!' And
you see! It's because I love you, my dear, and you are my dear sister's
child that I warn you to beware of living alone in that house!"
"Thank you so much," I said nastily. (When people presage a remark
by saying that they only say it because they love you, you may lay long
odds that it's going to be disagreeable!) "It certainly sounds a gruesome
prospect. Not even a choice between bankruptcy and mania, but a
certainty of both! And within a year, too! Such a short run for one's
money! Aunt Eliza had some suggestion to make, then? And you
evidently approved. Would you mind telling me exactly what it was?"

"That is what I am trying to do, but you will interrupt. Naturally, your
home is with us, your mother's sisters. You shall have the blue room
over the porch. If you wish it, we are willing that you should bring your
own pictures. The silver and valuables you can send to the bank, and
the furniture can be sold. You shall pay us five guineas a week, and we
will keep your horse, and house old Bridget if you don't want to part
from her. She can attend to your room, and sleep in the third attic.
There would be no extras except washing, and a fire in your room. You
know how we live; every comfort, but no excess. I disapprove of
excess. Eliza and I have often regretted that you and Kathie have such
extravagant ways. Early tea, as if you were old women, and bare
shoulders for dinner. You may laugh, my dear, but it's no laughing
matter. One thing leads to another. You can't wear an evening dress and
sit down to a chop. Soup and fish and an entree before you know where
you are. We have high tea. You would save money on evening gowns
alone. A dressy blouse is all that is required."
Aunt Emmeline paused to draw breath, twitched, jerked, and resolutely
braced herself to say a difficult thing.
"And--and we shall welcome you, my dear! We shall be p-pleased to
have you!"
Through all her protestation of welcome, through all her effort at
warmth, the plain, unflattering truth forced its way out. To entertain a
young independent niece beneath their roof might seem to the two
aunts a duty, but, most certainly, most obviously, it would not be a
pleasure! I was quite convinced that for myself it would be a fiery trial
to accept the offer; but it was a shock to realise that the aunts felt the
same!
I reviewed the situation from the two points of view, the while Aunt
Emmeline feverishly hacked at the hard sugar coating of the cake. For a
young, comparatively young woman, to go from the liberty of her own
home to share the stuffy, conventional, dull, proper,
do-nothing-but-fuss-and-talk-for-ever-about-nothing life of two old
ladies in a country town would obviously be a change for the worse;
but for the aforesaid old ladies to have their trivial life enriched by the

advent of a young, attractive, and (when she is in a good temper!) lively
and amusing niece, this should surely be a joy and a gain! But it wasn't
a joy. The poor old dears were shuddering at the thought that their
peaceful routine might be