L M Montgomery Short Story: The Romance Of Aunt Beatrice

Canadian author Lucy Maud Montgomery was born in Prince Edward Island on November 30, 1874. She achieved international fame in her lifetime, putting Prince Edward Island and Canada on the world literary stage. Best known for her "Anne of Green Gables" books, she was also a prolific writer of short stories and poetry.

This new episode is called The Romance of Aunt Beatrice

Performed by Stephanie Poppins
Music by Jean-Miles Carter
Published by Neworld Books

Transcript

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph. It is time to relax and fully let go. There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go. Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you. And let all the worries of the day drift away. This is your time and your space. Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh. There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go. Happy listening. The Romance of Aunt Beatrice Margaret always maintains it was a direct inspiration of Providence that took her across the street to see Aunt Beatrice that night. And Aunt Beatrice believes that it was too. But the truth of the matter is that Margaret was feeling very unhappy and went over to talk to her as the only alternative to a fit of crying. Margaret's unhappiness has nothing further to do with this story so it may be dismissed with a remark it did not amount to much, In spite of Margaret's tragical attitude, And was dissipated at once and forever by the arrival of a certain missent letter the next day. Aunt Beatrice was alone. Her brother and his wife had gone to the At Home which Mrs Cunningham was given that night in honour of the Honourable John Reynolds MP. The children were upstairs in bed and Aunt Beatrice was darning their stockings, A big basket full of which loomed up aggressively on the table beside her. Or to speak more correctly, She had been darning them. Just when Margaret was sliding across the icy street, Aunt Beatrice was bent forward in her chair, Her hands over her face while soft shrinking little sobs shook her from head to foot. When Margaret's imperative knock came at the front door, She started guiltily and wished earnestly she'd waited until she went to bed. If cry she must, She should cry in bed. But she knew Margaret's knock and she did not want her gay young niece of all the people in the world to suspect the fact or the cause of her tears. I hope she won't notice my eyes, She thought as she hastily plumped a big ugly dark green shade with an almond eyed oriental leering from it over the lamp before going out to let Margaret in. Margaret did not notice at first. She was too deeply absorbed in her own troubles to think about anyone else in the world that could be possibly miserable too. She curled up in the deep easy chair by the fire and clasped her hands behind her curly head with a sigh of physical comfort and mental unhappiness while Aunt Beatrice, Warily sitting with her back to the light, Took up her work again. You didn't need to go to Mrs Cunningham's at home, Auntie, Said Margaret lazily. She felt she must make some conversation to justify her appearance. You were invited, Weren't you? Aunt Beatrice nodded. The whole she was darning in the knee of Willie Hayden's stocking must be done very carefully. Mrs George Hayden was particular about such matters. Perhaps this was why she did not speak. Why didn't you go? Asked Margaret absently, Wondering why there'd been no letter for her that morning and this was the third day too. Could Gilbert be ill or was he flirting with some other girl and forgetting her? Margaret swallowed the big lump in her throat and resolved she would go home next week. No, She wouldn't either. If he was as hateful and fickle as that. . . What was Aunt Beatrice saying? Well, I'm not used to going to parties now, My dear, And the truth is I have no dress fit to wear. At least Bella said so because the party was to be a very fashionable affair. She said my old grey silk won't do at all. Of course she knows. She had to have a new dress for it and we couldn't both have that. George couldn't afford it these hard times and as Bella said, It would be very foolish of me to get an expensive dress that would be no use to me afterwards. But it doesn't matter. Of course somebody had to stay with the children. Of course, Assented Margaret dreamily. Mrs Cunningham's at-home was of no particular interest. The guests were all middle-aged people whom the MP had known in his boyhood and Margaret, In her presumptuous youth, Thought it would be a very prosy affair. Though it had made quite a sensation in quiet little Murray Bridge where people still called an at-home. A party, Plain and simple. I saw Mr Reynolds in church Sunday afternoon, She went on. He's very fine looking, I think. Did you ever meet him? I used to know him, Well, Very long ago, Announced Aunt Beatrice, Bowing still lower. He used to live down in Wentworth, You know, And he visited his married sister there very often. He was only a boy at that time. Then he went out to British Columbia and we never heard much more about him since. He's very rich. He owns dozens of mines and railroads and things like that, Said Margaret. And he's a member of the Mid-Dominion Parliament. They say he's one of the foremost men in the house. He came very near getting a portfolio in the new cabinet. I like men like that. They're so interesting. Wouldn't it be awfully nice and complimentary to have one of them in love with you? Is he married? I don't know, Said Aunt Beatrice faintly. I'd never heard that he was. There, You've run the needle into your finger, Said Margaret sympathetically. It's of no consequence, Said Aunt Beatrice. She wiped away the drop of blood and went on with her work. Margaret watched her dreamily. What lovely hair Aunt Beatrice had. It was so thick and glossy with warm bronze tones where the lamplight fell on it under that hideous, Weird old shade. But Aunt Beatrice wore it in such an unbecoming way. Margaret idly wondered if she would comb her hair straight back and prim when she was 35. She thought it very probable if that letter did not come tomorrow. From Aunt Beatrice's hair, Margaret's eyes fell to Aunt Beatrice's face and she gave a little jump. Had she been crying? Margaret sat bolt upright. Aunt Beatrice, Did you want to go to that party? She demanded explosively. Tell me the truth. I did. Said Aunt Beatrice weakly. Margaret's sudden attack fairly startled the truth out of her. It's very silly of me, I know, But I did want to go. I didn't care about a new dress. I'd have been willing to wear my grey silk and could have affixed the sleeves. What difference would it have made anyway? Nobody would ever have noticed me. But Bella thought it wouldn't do. She paused long enough to give a little sob, Which she could not repress. Margaret made use of the opportunity. It's a shame she exploded violently. I suppose you don't understand why I wanted to go, Went on Aunt Beatrice. If you won't laugh at me, I'll tell you. I wanted to see John Reynolds, Not to talk to him. I dare say he wouldn't remember me, But just to see him. Fifteen years ago, We were engaged, You know. I loved him so much then, Margaret. You poor dear, Said Margaret sympathetically, And she reached over and patted her aunt's hand. She thought that this little bit of romance, Long hidden and unsuspected, Blossoming out under her eyes, Was charming. And in her interest, She quite forgot her own pet grievance. And then we quarrelled, Said Aunt Beatrice. It was a dreadful quarrel. It was about such a trifling thing. We parted in anger and he went away. Oh well, It's all over now. Everyone's forgotten about it. But I just wanted to see him once more and then come quietly away. Aunt Beatrice, You're going to that party yet, Said Margaret decisively. It's quite impossible, My dear. No, It isn't. Nothing's impossible. When I make up my mind, You will go. I'll drag you there by main force if it comes to that. Oh, I have such a jolly plan, Auntie. You don't know my black and yellow dinner dress, Do you? I've never worn it here. The folks at home said it was too severe for me and so it is. Nothing really suits me but the fluffy chuffy things with a tilt to them. Gilbert, I mean, Well. . . Gilbert always declared that dress made me look like a cross between an unwilling nun and a ballet girl. So I took a dislike to it. But it's as lovely as a dream. Oh, Aunt Beatrice, When you see it, Your eyes will stick out. You must wear it tonight. It's just your style and I'm sure it'll fit. Our figures are very much alike, You know. But it's too late. It isn't. It's not more than half an hour since Uncle George and Aunt Bella went. I'll have you ready in a twinkling. But the fire and the children. . . I'll stay here. I won't burn the house down. And if the twins wake up, I'll give them. . . What is it you give them? Soothing syrup. Go at once and get ready while I fly over for the dress. Then I'll fix your hair up when I get back. Margaret was gone before Aunt Beatrice could speak again. Her niece's excitement seized hold of her and she flung the stockings into the basket and the basket into the closet. I will go. I won't do another bit of darning tonight. I hate darning. How much good it does me to say that. When at last Margaret came flying up the stairs, Aunt Beatrice was ready save for her hair and dress. Margaret cast the gown on the bed, Revealing all its beauty of jetted lace and soft yellow silk with a dexterous sweep of her arm. Aunt Beatrice gave a little cry of admiration. Isn't it lovely? Demanded Margaret. And I've brought you my opera cape and my fascinator and my black satin slippers with the cunningest gold buckles and some sweet pale yellow roses that Uncle Ned gave me yesterday. Aunt Beatrice, What magnificent arms and shoulders you have. They're like marble. Mine is so scorny. I'm just ashamed to have people know they belong to me. Margaret's nimble fingers were keeping time with her tongue. Aunt Beatrice's hair went up as if by magic into soft puffs and waves and twists, And a golden rose was dropped among the bronze masses. Then the lovely dress was put on and pinned and looped and pulled until it fell into its simple classic lines around the tall curving figure. Margaret stepped back and clapped her hands admiringly. Oh, Aunt Beatrice, You're beautiful. Now I'll just pop down for the cloak and fascinator. I left them hanging by the fire. Then moments later, How I wish I could come in with you. I'd love to see the sensation you'll make Aunt Beatrice. She whispered, You dear silly child, It's just the purple and fine linen. She laughed, But secretly, She did not altogether think so. And ringing the doorbell unqualingly, She saw when it opened in the hall, Mrs Cunningham herself. My dear Beatrice, I'm so glad. Bella said you couldn't come because you had a headache. My headache got quite better after they left. I thought I'd get ready and come anyway, Said Beatrice glibly. When they went down the stairs together, Beatrice statuesque and erect in her trailing draperies and Mrs Cunningham secretly wondering where on earth Beatrice had got such a magnificent dress from. A man came through the hall. At the foot of the stairs they met and he put out his hand. Beatrice, It must be Beatrice. How little you've changed. Mrs Cunningham was not particularly noted in Murraybridge for her tact, But she had a sudden visitation of the saving grace at that moment and left the two alone. Beatrice put her hand into the MP's. I'm glad to see you, She said simply looking up at him. She could not say that he had not changed for there was little in his tall broad-shouldered man of the world with grey glints in his hair to suggest the slim boyish young lover whose image she'd carried in her heart all the long years. But the voice though deeper and mellower was just the same and the thin clever mouth that went up at one corner and down the other with a humorous twist and one little curl of reddish hair falling over his forehead away from its orderly fellows and more than that the deep-set grey eyes looking down into her blue ones were still unchanged. Beatrice felt her heart beating to her fingertips. I thought you were not coming, He said. I expected to meet you here and was horribly disappointed. I thought the bitterness of that foolish old quarrel must be strong enough to sway you yet. Didn't Bella tell you I had a headache? Faltered Beatrice. Bella? Oh, Your brother's wife. I wasn't talking to her been sulking in corners ever since I concluded you weren't coming. How beautiful you are, Beatrice. You'll let an old friend say that much, Won't you? Beatrice laughed softly. She'd forgotten for years she was beautiful but the sweet old knowledge had come back to her again. She could not help knowing he spoke the simple truth but she said mirthfully You've learned to flatter since the old days, Have you? Don't you remember you used to tell me I was too thin to be pretty? But I suppose a bit of blarney is a necessary ingredient in the composition of an MP. He was still holding her hand with a glance of dissatisfaction at the open parlour door. He drew her away to the little room at the end of the hall which Mrs Cunningham for reasons known only to herself called her library. Come in here with me, He said masterfully I want to have a talk with you before everyone else gets a hold of you. When Beatrice got home from the party ten minutes before her brother and his wife Margaret was sitting turk fashion in the big armchair with her eyes very wide and owlish. Were you asleep? Asked Aunt Beatrice indulgently. Yes, Said Margaret and I've let the fire go out. I hope you're not cold. I must run before Aunt Bella gets here or she'll scold me for being late. Did you have a nice time? Delightful. You were a digger to lend me this dress. It was so funny to see Bella staring at it. When Margaret had put on her hat and jacket and went as far as the street door and then tiptoed back to the sitting room Aunt Beatrice was leaning back in the armchair with a drooping rose held softly against her lips dreamily gazing into the dull red embers. Aunty? Said Margaret contritely. I can't go home without confessing although I know it's a heinous offence to interrupt the kind of musing that goes with dying embers and faded roses but it would weigh on my conscience all night if I didn't. I didn't mean to spy upon anyone but the street was as bright as day. I went to the window and just before you came in I saw you let an MP kiss you on the doorstep in the glaring moonlight. Aunt Beatrice smiled. Well my conscience is clear at least, She said. I wouldn't have cared if there'd been a dozen onlookers and I don't believe he would have either. Margaret threw up her hands. Just remember Aunt Beatrice I'm to be bridesmaid I insist upon it and won't you ask me to visit you when you go to Ottawa next winter? I'm told it's such a jolly place when the house is in session and you'll need someone to help you entertain you know the wife of a cabinet minister has to do lots of that but I forgot he isn't a cabinet minister yet is he but he will be of course. I'll promise that you'll have me Aunt Beatrice promise quick. I hear Uncle George and Aunt Bella are coming. Aunt Beatrice promised and Margaret flew to the door. You better keep that dress she called back softly you're going to need it.