The Lady of the Basement Flat | Page 8

every family, a
permanent `Aunt Mary,' to lend a hand in its joys and sorrows, its
spring cleanings, and its--jams! Nowadays Aunt Marys are so scarce.
They are absorbed in their own schemes. Why shouldn't I take up the
role, and be a universal fairy to the mansions--devoting my idle time to
other people who need me, ready to love and to scold, to bake and to
brew, to put my fingers in other people's pies, leaving behind sugar for
them, and pulling out plums for myself of soothing, and comfort, and
joy!" My voice broke suddenly. I was awfully lonely, and the thought
of those figurative plums cut to the heart. The tears trickled down my

cheeks; I forgot where I was, and to whom I was speaking, and just
sobbed out all that was in my heart.
"Oh! Oh! To be needed again! To have some one to care for! That
would help--that would fill the gap--that would make life worth while."
Instinctively I stretched out my hands, in appeal for sympathy and
understanding.
"Oh, don't be silly!" said Aunt Eliza.
CHAPTER THREE.
CHARMION FANE INTERVENES.
During the next days the idea of making my home in London, and
playing fairy godmother to the tenants in a block of flats, took an
ever-deepening root in my heart. I pondered on it incessantly and
worked out plans as to ways and means.
Bridget should go with me as general factotum, for my method of
living must be as simple as possible, since the neighbours would be
more likely to confide their troubles to the ear of one who was,
apparently, in the same position of life as themselves. Smart clothing
would be unnecessary also, and a hundred and one luxuries of a
leisured life. I mentally drew up a list of things taboo, and regarded it
with--let me be honest--lingering regret. I was quite, quite willing to
deny myself, but it is folly to pretend that it didn't cost a pang. I like
good clothes and dainty meals, and motor-cars, and space, and luxury,
and people to wait upon me when I'm tired, and unlimited supplies of
flowers, and fruit, and hot water, to say nothing of my own little share
of variety and fun. Down at the bottom of my heart, a lurking doubt of
myself stirred into life, and spoke with insistent voice:--
"All very well, Evelyn, but can you keep it up? Are you brave enough,
strong enough, unselfish enough to give up all that has hitherto made
your life, and to be satisfied with living through others? Won't the time
come when nature will rebel, and demand a turn for yourself? And then,

Evelyn, then what are you going to do? Could you ever respect yourself
again if, having put your shoulder to the wheel, you drew back and
lapsed into selfish indifference?"
As for Aunt Emmeline, she turned on the cold tap, and kept it on at a
continuous trickle.
"Exaggerated nonsense! You always were exaggerated, Evelyn, from a
child. Be kind, of course; that's only your duty, but I call it officious
and presumptuous to interfere in other people's lives. You of all people!
At your age! With your looks--"
"What have my looks to do with it?"
"My dear, it is not your fault, but I've said it before, and I say it
again--you are showy! There is something about you which makes
people stare. Dear Kathie could pass along quietly, or sit in a corner of
a room and be conveniently overlooked, but you--I am not paying you
a compliment, my dear, I consider it is a misfortune!--you take the eye!
Wherever you go, people will notice you and gossip about your
movements. At twenty-six, and with your appearance, I ask you
candidly, as aunt to niece--do you consider yourself a suitable person to
live alone, and minister to widowers?"
"Well, if you put it like that, I don't! But what of the children who
shriek, and have holes in their stockings? Mightn't they like me better
just because I am young and look nice?"
I laughed as I spoke, but Aunt Emmeline was so pleased that I showed
some glimmerings of reason, that she said suavely:--
"Wait ten years, dear! Till your hair is grey! You will age early with
those sharp features. In ten or twelve years you can do as you please."
I thought, but did not say:--
"My dear aunt, but I shall do it now!"

A week passed by, while I pondered and worried, and then at last came
a "lead" from without. A morning dawned when Bridget brought my
letters with my early tea, and set them down on the table by my bed.
"Four letters this morning, and only one of the lot you'll be caring to