Jane Lends A Hand Part 9

"It's _Paul_!" The thought flashed across her mind instantly. Her first impression of her new cousin was disappointing. Though such matters rarely counted for much with Jane, she was really shocked by the shabbiness of his appearance; for covered as he was with mud, his ill-fitting, outworn clothes made him look like a veritable ragam.u.f.fin.

But it was not this so much as his whole bearing and expression that displeased her. There was something both sullen and stubborn in his face, which, combined with lines of weariness and hunger, made him seem much older than he really was, and decidedly unattractive. And she had been so sure that she was going to like her new cousin; she had pictured him as a jolly, ruddy, lively boy who would probably enter heart and soul into her enjoyments; someone with whom you could make friends in five minutes; whereas unsociability was stamped on every feature of _this_ boy's sallow, unsmiling face.

Just then the sharp tapping of Granny's cane resounded through the corridor. The old lady's singular impatience to know who the stranger was, had not allowed her to wait for Jane's tardy report. With her cap askew, she appeared at the head of the stairs.

"Who is it? Who is it?" she demanded, almost breathlessly. "Stand aside, child." And without waiting for a reply, she descended the stairs with wonderful rapidity, marched to the dining room door, and flung it open.

"Peter! Gertrude!" she blinked nervously into the room, where only the firelight illumined the two figures in the dusk. Then she stared into Paul's face. It was only a moment before her uncertainty disappeared.

"I knew it! I knew it!" she cried. "Peter Lambert, why didn't you tell me? Ah, heaven's! My dear boy, _I_ am your old Granny!" And weeping from sheer joy, she unhesitatingly flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

A few moments later the entire family had collected to welcome the newcomer. The twins with their round blue eyes fastened on him gravely, clung to their mother, who kissed him warmly, exclaimed over his size, and at once began to worry affectionately about his wet clothes. Elise greeted him with her usual gentle, modest smile, Carl with a patronizing, "How do you do, cousin?" and a keen glance, as if he were "sizing up" an opponent of some sort.

During these proceedings Paul looked utterly bewildered, and exceedingly awkward, as if he could not believe that all these good people who were smiling at him, shaking hands with him, and asking him if he were tired, were really his family. All that interested him was the fact that he smelt supper cooking.

Last of all to welcome him was Jane, who had stood aside, watching him intently; and it was he who turned to her, and with the polite smile that he had forced for the occasion, held out his hand.

"How do you do, cousin?"

"How do you do, cousin Paul?" repeated Jane decorously.

Jane was not over impulsive, and she had not yet made up her mind as to the degree of liking she felt for this tall, reticent youth, this sober, chilly, self-a.s.sured boy, whom Destiny had now placed at the head of the House of Winkler.

CHAPTER V-PAUL HESITATES

"Poor child, you are dripping wet! You'll catch your death of cold!"

cried Mrs. Lambert, noticing Paul's state for the first time. "What can I be thinking of! You must have a hot bath and some dry things at once.

Carl, take Paul up to your room, dear, and see that he makes himself _very_ comfortable. I must see to supper. You must be starving, too!"

Accordingly, Carl undertook his duties as host as hospitably as he could, and Paul followed him upstairs.

In a moment or two Carl returned, wearing the prim expression of one who would like to express his opinion, and is merely waiting to be asked, and at length, one by one, the family began, naturally enough, to discuss the impression that the newcomer had made on them, severally.

The criticisms were very kindly, but at the same time, it soon became clear that so far no one felt any great enthusiasm for the stranger. His curt manner had hurt his aunt and his grandmother, who had been so eager in their welcome to the fatherless boy, and had irritated Mr. Lambert.

The short, brusque answers he had given to the endless kindly questions with which he had been plied, had discouraged the well-meant, and very natural curiosity of his relatives, and had made them feel rather uncomfortable.

Grandmother Winkler and Mrs. Lambert staunchly insisted that the poor boy was only lonely and unhappy; but down in their hearts they had been sadly disappointed in Franz's son. Elise also ranged herself in his defense, feeling that any disapproval, expressed or unexpressed, of the new head of the clan, was a form of treason.

"Think how you would feel, Carl," she said, "if you had lost your father, and had landed in a strange country among strangers-for after all we _are_ strangers to Paul."

"That's all right," returned Carl, "I could understand it if he were just gloomy. But I don't see any reason why he has to be downright disagreeable."

"I'm sure he doesn't mean to be disagreeable, my dear," said Mrs.

Lambert.

"Well, we mustn't lose any time in getting the boy settled down to his work," said Mr. Lambert. "That will take his mind off his own troubles.

I shall have a talk with him after supper."

"I shook hands with him, and said I was glad to see him, and he just stared at me as if I were a-a fish," went on Carl, still dwelling on his own grievances. "I know he's here to stay, and I'll try to get on with him, though I'll tell you right now, it's not going to be an easy job.

And I hope to goodness I won't have to room with him permanently, mother. Can't you find somewhere to put him? Can't you-" Carl broke off abruptly, reddening, for at that moment Paul entered the room. He was scrubbed and brushed, and, dressed in Mr. Lambert's summer suit, looked vastly better than the young tramp who had entered their midst an hour before. Unfortunately he had overheard Carl's remark, and his expression had changed from one that was almost friendly to the stony, immobile look that absolutely altered the whole character of his face. The cozy family scene in the dining room, where now the table had been set, and the lamp lighted, and where the firelight shone upon the faces of three generations, from Granny to little Minie, had done much to make Paul feel that he would be happy after all among these simple, happy people-until his quick ears caught Carl's unkind remark.

Only Jane had seen the look that showed he had overheard; but everyone felt that he had, and an awkward little silence followed his entrance, during which Elise glanced at her brother in distress, and Mrs. Lambert struggled to think of something to say that would mend matters a little.

But Carl met his cousin's eyes defiantly, and from that moment the tacit hostility of the two boys was sealed.

So Paul, who had been on the verge of thawing a little, had frozen up again. He concluded immediately that _everyone_ disliked him, and like many sensitive people, instead of attempting to overcome this imagined dislike, he carefully hid all that was winning in his nature, under his cold, unsympathetic manner. He even fancied that his aunt's affectionate little attentions were only a.s.sumed to hide her real feelings. Poor Aunt Gertrude! No one in the world was less capable of insincerity than she, and her gentle heart ached over the forlorn, taciturn youth.

Supper was a decidedly uncomfortable meal; and Paul, who had felt that he could have eaten the proverbial fatted calf, found it difficult to swallow a mouthful. During the journey there had been too much to occupy him, too many difficulties and strange events for him to think much about the abrupt change that had taken place in his life; but now, as he sat with his eyes on his plate, in the midst of these strange faces, he felt as if the bottom had dropped out of everything. A perfect wave of depression engulfed him, and all he wished for was to get off by himself.

"Well, my boy, are you too tired to have a little talk?" asked Mr.

Lambert, at length pus.h.i.+ng back his chair.

"No, sir," muttered Paul, curtly, thinking to himself, "I don't suppose that they want to have me on their hands any longer than is necessary."

"Children, you may prepare your lessons in your own rooms to-night.

Well, Paul, suppose you and I get over here into my corner," suggested Mr. Lambert, walking across to his desk. "Sit down."

Paul sat down, folded his hands in his lap, and fixed his eyes attentively on the window. The rain still rattled on the gla.s.s panes, and the wind banged the shutters, and moaned through the leafless trees.

"I am only going to acquaint you with the wishes which your father-my poor brother-expressed in a recent letter," began Mr. Lambert, rummaging through his orderly pigeon-holes. "It might be best for you to read it for yourself." But Paul declined the letter with a gesture.

"Ah, well," said Mr. Lambert, replacing the poor, blotted sheets in the envelope, "I don't want to pain you, my dear boy, and I would not touch on the subject at all, if I did not feel that it were best for you to find something to occupy your thoughts at this time." He paused, but as Paul did not seem to think it necessary to make any reply, he continued:

"You must understand how deeply I am interested in your affairs. Er-how old are you?"

"Seventeen, sir."

"Seventeen? I should have thought you were older. But seventeen is not an age of childhood, and in any event I feel that you are fully capable of a.s.suming the responsibilities which must fall upon you as the only-living-male descendant-of-the Winkler Family." Mr. Lambert uttered these last words with an impressiveness that cannot be described. Paul looked up, suddenly interested, and with a wary, defensive expression.

"No doubt your father acquainted you with his wishes?"

"My father told me to come to you, and that you would help me," said Paul.

"Help you? Indeed I will help you. I would help you in any event because you are my nephew, and blood runs thicker than water, my boy. Always remember that. But believe me, it is not family duty alone that impels me to give you all the a.s.sistance I can,-I feel that you are a young man who is _worthy_-worthy to enter upon the duties of your position."

Paul was puzzled. He could not understand these allusions to his "position," and his "responsibilities."

"Never hesitate to come to me for any advice. Do not allow little discouragements to overwhelm you," continued Mr. Lambert. "Your aunt, of course, will be your real teacher-"

"My _aunt_?" echoed Paul, completely bewildered. "I don't understand-"

"Ah," said Mr. Lambert, smiling, "perhaps you are not familiar with the traditions of your family. Then, I will tell you; your great-great-grandfather, on your father's side, Johann Winkler, was, as you surely know, the founder of this Bakery. He was, moreover, the inventor of certain delicacies which have made it famous, and which cannot possibly be made by any other baker in this country-in the world, I may say. It was his wish that the fruits of his labors should be the heritage of his descendants, and that only those who bore the name of Winkler, should learn the secret recipes by which those cakes are mixed.

A moment's thought will make it clear to you that you are the next in line to be initiated into these secrets, which are sealed from me, and my children. In a word, you are the only living heir to this business.

Your aunt, of course, is the present proprietor, and she and she alone can instruct you in the work in which you must follow her."

Paul was speechless, and Mr. Lambert, mistaking his astonished silence, for a calm acceptance of what he had said, now drew forth a large parchment from a drawer of his desk, and spread it out with a pompous air.

"This, my boy, is the family tree of the Winklers, which establishes your claim to your inheritance. Here, you see-" his broad forefinger began to trace the branches, "Johann Winkler had two sons, Frederick and Samuel. Frederick, the elder had two sons, also Samuel and Johann. In this case, the younger became the Baker, and Samuel became a hardware merchant in Missouri. Thus, Johann was the father of your Aunt Gertrude, and _your_ father, who also relinquished his inheritance, like Esau-"