AUNT DUNK

A Story, in Four Chapters

BY L. K. KNATCHBULL-HUGESSEN

CHAPTER I. AUNT DUNK AT HOME.

DID any of you know aunt Dunk? Because if you did not, remember that ignorance is bliss. I experienced poverty, toothache, and aunt Dunk, all rather violently, in the course of one year, and I decidedly preferred the two former.

In June we were ruined; in July I suffered from tic-douloureux; and in August I went to live with aunt Dunk. There had been

an uncle Dunk once, but it was a situation of some difficulty; therefore he died as soon as he could. His last and most fervent wish was, that his wife should not soon join him in the family vault; but, dear man, with his usual kind thought for others, he worded it very beautifully.

'Hannah, my dear,' said he tenderly, I hope you will have a long, long life.'

'That I shall not, Mr. Dunk,' said my aunt with her accustomed promptitude. And then uncle Dunk, perceiving his mistake, and feeling too surely that to suggest to her to live would but decide her to die at once, added: Ay, my dear, I ought to have known you better. You won't get on without me; you'll soon be after me, won't you, Hannah ?'

'You were never more mistaken in your life, Mr. Dunk,' said my aunt; and those were the last words that fell on his ears, for he was so well satisfied with them, that he died without giving her an opportunity of contradicting him again.

And then aunt Dunk lived on at Dunk Marsh, with Crampton the old butler, and Crow her maid and housekeeper, probably the only two people in the world who could have endured the life. They got on pretty well with her, by always suggesting to her to do everything they did not wish done, and vice versa. Moreover, although the best of friends, they abused one another perpetually to my aunt. as a matter of principle, keeping her amused and really quite comfortable by imaginary quarrels. They were good-hearted creatures, or they would not have plotted to introduce a poor relation to their mistress's home; which they did as soon as they heard of our losses. They at once suggested to aunt Dunk that no doubt we should be expecting her to take one of us to live with her, but that it was a SECOND SERIES, VOL. X. F.S. VOL. XX.

H

thing that never could be. It would upset the household, and put an end to all regularity. Mrs. Crow added, that although nothing would ever induce her to leave her dear lady, she had heard Mr. Crampton declare that if any of the Miss Pellams came to live at Dunk Marsh one day, he should give warning the next; while that great man privately informed my aunt that he knew for certain that Mrs. Crow would never stay to be put upon by two ladies. This course, steadily pursued with judicious alternations for one month, resulted in an invitation to one of us to take up our abode with aunt Dunk. The following is a copy of her letter:

'Girls, I am glad to learn that you have lost all your money. I hope you will never have any more to lose. At all events, you shall have none from me, living or dead. Women can live by their brains as well as men. However, as you no longer have it in your power to make fools of yourselves with other folks' hair piled on the tops of your heads, stuff enough in each gown to make three for any reasonable woman, and tags and bobtails hanging all over you, I will take one of you to live with me-especially as Crampton and Crow object most strongly. You are all ugly, but if one has grown uglier than the rest, that one I will have. I have written to the clergyman and churchwardens of your parish to decide this matter for me, as I like to uphold the Church in all things. I am your aunt, HANNAH DUNK.'

The knotty point referred to the decision of the Church was a source of some amusement to us. Our rector was a shy young man, very much in love with my sister Ellen. He came up to the house with a red face and an open letter. I believe he had passed a sleepless night in agonies of doubt as to the course he ought to pursue.

'Miss Pellam,' said he, I have received a most extraordinary letter from a relative of yours, a most extraordinary letter.'

'Indeed, Mr. Anson!' We all preserved our gravity, but Ellen blushed violently as she bent over her work.

He looked at her, but he spoke to my eldest sister, Anne. Really I hardly know how to act. If I disregard it, I may be doing you an injury; yet It is an unheard-of request; no gentleman-no man of any He walked about the room in dire perplexity. To be required to look round deliberately upon five sisters, and to decideto pronounce I mean to say, to announce-to one of them that she is that one considers her—that is

Here we all burst into ungovernable laughter, and lightened his task by assuring him that we were aware of its nature, and that no doubt could exist upon the subject. Hannah, my aunt's namesake and godchild, had long enjoyed the distinction of ugliest among Pellams. Then he showed us aunt Dunk's letter. It was as follows:

'Sir,-You are doubtless aware that it is the duty of the clergy to assist those who are perplexed in spirit. I am in that condition, and I apply to you as a clergyman to assist me. I wish to have one of the Miss Pellams, my nieces, to live with me, and for reasons which I will proceed to explain it is my desire to select the ugliest. In my day I was a handsome young woman, and was much annoyed by proposals of marriage from men of various standing. I refused them all till I was black in the face; but the pest continued, until in sheer self-defence I was obliged to marry my dear departed, the late Mr. Dunk, almost the only man of my acquaintance who had had the good sense never to ask me. You will easily understand that I do not want to have my middle age disturbed by the same kind of annoyance, by means of any young woman residing under my roof. Neither should I wish any one to suffer as I did. I intend to guard my niece from every proposal of marriage, and I shall hope at my death to leave her in that state of single blessedness and isolation the attainment of which should in these days be the object of every right-minded woman. I hail with pleasure the advance of public opinion, and still more of public practice, on this point. But I will not at present trouble you with my views, merely pausing to remark that woman is evidently at length taking her proper place as man's equal. I now come to the subject of my letter. Although recognising that the annoyance to which I have alluded is less to be apprehended than in my own youth, I still wish to reduce the danger in the present case to a minimum. I would, therefore, ask of you, as the clergyman of the parish in which my nieces reside, to call upon them in company with your churchwardens, and, according to the best of your and their judgment, to decide for me which of these young women is possessed of fewest attractions; in plain words, which is the ugliest. Awaiting your early reply, which I doubt not will convey a solution of my difficulty, and perfectly ready to expound

to you my views upon woman, should desire it, I am, sir, yours

faithfully,

you

HANNAH DUNK.'

This letter was the subject of much laughter, and more discussion. The difficulties were: first, how to avoid the churchwardens, for aunt Dunk would hardly consider the election legal unless her commands were fulfilled to the letter; secondly, how to contrive the election of myself, the only one willing to face the situation. From our knowledge of aunt Dunk, we felt sure she would not take the one recommended, but here all certainty stopped.

At length we resolved that the question of churchwardens should be waived for the present, and that, as a preliminary step, Mr. Anson should write to name Hannah as undoubtedly the plainest of the family.

According to our expectations, this produced an angry letter from

aunt Dunk, demanding why the signatures of the churchwardens had been omitted, and desiring that photographs of the five sisters should be taken for her at once. There was no escape. The churchwardens were acccordingly sworn to secrecy, and in a state of great amazement were surreptitiously introduced into our drawing-room, when, in consequence of Hannah's perfect good-humour and tact, they arrived at a unanimous decision in her favour.

In the mean time we received a most curious epistle. It was to this effect:

'Young Ladys if One of you wants for tu come say you dont and if anny particular wants not for tu come say you du from your Umble servants to comand CRAMPTON & CROW.'

We profited by the advice. My eldest sister sent with the photographs a letter expressing the gratitude and readiness of the whole family, but adding that if we were allowed a voice in the matter, it would entirely coincide with the decision of Mr. Anson and his churchwardens, and venturing to hope that in any case aunt Dunk would not decide upon taking me, as I was several years younger than the others, and had bad health and irritable nerves. All this was strictly true, and indeed poor Anne did her best to dissuade me from putting myself in the way of a trial which she herself had experienced many years before. Her warnings were disregarded. I was self-willed and spoilt, and eager to judge for myself of eccentricities of which I had heard so much.

The effect of Anne's letter was all I could desire. I was sent for at once, and I went. Aunt Dunk's carriage met me at the station. It was the carriage in which she and uncle Dunk had taken their wedding tour some thirty or forty years before. It was very high, and very heavy, with enormous wheels, and was lined with thick musty yellow leather. Postillion and horses matched it well. The horses had thick legs, thick necks, thick ears, and thick heads, which latter they poked straight out before them. The postillion was aunt Dunk's own servant, and had acted in the same capacity in the very tour afore named. His hair was gray, his jacket was darned, and his horses pulled different ways; but they brought me to Dunk Marsh, with no other incident than one remark from the old man as I approached the carriage. Bless my old eyes, you are a little un!' said he, turning round in his saddle to survey me. And then he laughed aloud, and kicking one leg up in the air, and plunging the other into his horse's flank, off he set.

The old manor - house where aunt Dunk lived and worried was long and low, red and rambling, standing in flat water-meadows surrounded by rushes and poplars, dreary beyond description. At the door appeared Crampton and Crow. Why Crow always appeared to welcome the coming guest, I never could divine. It was either a