Less than kin

by Alice Duer Miller

The servant who answered the door said that Miss Overton was on the piazza, and led the way to the back of the house, where Vickers found that he had been anticipated by two young men, who were sitting on the steps of the piazza, looking up at the girl in her low wicker chair. It struck Vickers that the conversation had languished, for there was a decided pause as he approached. But this illusion was dispelled by Miss Overton’s greeting, which was so markedly constrained, so totally different from the manner in which she had invited him to come, that Vickers did not need much perception to guess that she had been warned he was not a desirable acquaintance.

He did not allow that knowledge, however, to chill his pleasant manner. He took his place on the steps, although there were a number of luxurious looking chairs standing about. He was punctiliously introduced to both of the young men, and he remarked at once that it was very kind in Miss Overton to let him come, as he seemed to be in the way at home.

“Oh, I suppose Mr. Emmons was there,” said Miss Overton; and it presently appeared that Miss Overton did not think Mr. Emmons half good enough for Nellie. One of the young men said rather gruffly that he did not think so either, and was greeted by so many sly giggles and innuendoes that Vickers gathered that he too had had pretensions in this direction.

Vickers contented himself by remarking that Emmons did not seem to him a romantic figure, and Miss Overton burst out:

“And Nellie of all people, who might have married so many nice men.”

“The deuce you say,” cried Vickers, and was rewarded for his interest by hearing all the gossip of Nellie’s love-affairs for the last six years.

He turned to Miss Overton. “And why did not Nellie accept any of these eligible proposals?” he asked.

There was a short but awkward pause, and then Miss Overton replied in a low voice that she understood Nellie did not feel she could leave her uncle.

The answer, though not painful for the reason they thought, was nevertheless painful to Vickers. It seemed to set a new obstacle between him and Nellie. A woman might forgive you for overworking her, even for robbing her, but for coming between her and a man she fancied—never. No wonder he had not found it easy to establish pleasant relations with her. The task looked harder than ever.

He had no difficulty in thawing little Miss Overton’s manner. She was a type he understood better. She giggled so delightedly every time he opened his mouth, that he felt emboldened to stay even after the two young men had risen together. As soon as they had gone the former constraint returned to the girl’s manner. She asked stiffly: