Aunt Patty's paying guests — Story, Setting & Ideas
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The source record for Aunt Patty's paying guests — Story, Setting & Ideas measures this digital text at 71,864 words, 5 hr 13 min estimated reading time, and 7 detected text sections.
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I. AN UNWELCOME DECREE
V. A RESPONSE TO THE ADVERTISEMENT
VI. THE FIRST ARRIVAL
VIII. A PRINCELY GIFT
IX. MISS COTTRELL'S ALIAS
X. COUSIN AGNETA'S LOVE STORY
XI. THE UNFORESEEN BEFALLS
XII. AT HOBBES'S COTTAGE
XIII. OLIVE'S HAPPINESS
XV. AN ACT OF INDISCRETION
XVII. A GALA DAY AT GREENTREE
XIX. MISS COTTRELL'S ELATION
XXI. THE RETURN OF THE AMERICANS
XXIII. TWILIGHT TALKS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PAULINA THREW HERSELF ON HER KNEES BESIDE ME. Frontispiece
"YOU SHOULD SEND HER INTO THE COUNTRY AND GIVE HER A BICYCLE."
AUNT MET PROFESSOR FAULKNER IN THE HALL.
"OH, I WRENCHED MY SHOULDER A BIT," HE SAID.
JOSIAH DICKS AND MISS COTTRELL PACING ARM IN ARM.
AUNT PATTY'S PAYING GUESTS
"NO books for twelve months at least," said Dr. Algar, our family physician. "This overworked little brain needs repose. So remember, Nan—no books."
"No books?" I repeated in utter dismay. "But that is impossible—quite impossible, Dr. Algar!"
"Oh, I do not mean that you may not read a storybook now and then, or amuse yourself with the magazines," he said calmly, "but anything like study I absolutely forbid."
His words fell on my ears like a sentence of doom. How could I give up my studies? My intellectual work was more to me than anything else, though of late it had become a burden, and I could not bear to renounce the hopes and ambitions on which my heart was set. For months I had been working my hardest in preparation for Matriculation. I wanted to take honours, for I thought that distinction would help me to obtain a good post as teacher in a school. I worked under disadvantages, for I had a daily engagement as governess which occupied the best part of each day. My pupils were very young, and their instruction did not involve for me any mental strain; but they were tiresome, spoiled children, and I often returned home from teaching them feeling irritated. Tea generally revived me, and I devoted the evening to study.
As the time fixed for the examination drew nearer, I sometimes rose at six, and did an hour's work before breakfast. It was not easy to leave my bed in the raw cold of the early morning and dress by gaslight. In spite of the little oil-stove which I used to kindle in my room, the cold seemed to benumb all my faculties. After a while I decided that it was better to work late at night, and I would sit up wrestling with some mathematical problem long after the other members of the household were wrapped in slumber. Soon I began to be conscious of a sick, dizzy sensation when I rose; severe headaches often interrupted my studies; it became increasingly difficult for me to concentrate my thoughts.
"How cross Nan is!" I used to hear my younger sisters whisper to each other, and my conscience told me that the words were true, and reproached me also for the way in which I lost patience with my little pupils.
At last there came an hour when everything faded from me as I sat at my desk. My spirit seemed to go away to the very bounds of existence. As from a great distance I came back to consciousness, with a singing in my ears and a feeling of deadly sickness, and beheld the faces of mother, Olive, and our maid-of-all-work looking down on me.
"What is the matter? What is it all about?" I asked vaguely.
"You fainted, darling—just an ordinary fainting-fit, nothing more," mother said.
It was such an unusual thing for mother to use terms of endearment that I knew when she called me "darling" that I must have alarmed her very much, and I almost fainted again from the shock of finding myself such a centre of anxious interest. Mother gave me a strong dose of sal-volatile, which soon brought me round. I was put to bed, but for the rest of the evening, some one kept watch beside me. My swoon had lasted a long time, and, since even ordinary fainting fits do not occur without a cause, Dr. Algar was on the morrow called in to examine me, with the result recorded above.
"I hate story-books," I said crossly. "Cannot you give me a tonic that will pick me up?"
He shook his head as he smiled on me with a very kindly look in his eyes.
The novel opens with a blunt medical decree: 'No books for twelve months at least.' Nan, the narrator, has been studying obsessively for Matriculation while working as a governess, rising at six to study by gaslight. The doctor's order forces her to abandon her ambitions, and she is sent to the countryside as a paying guest at her Aunt Patty's house, 'Gay Bowers.' The first chapter establishes Nan's voice—practical, self-aware, and prone to dramatic dismay—and sets up a central tension between intellectual aspiration and physical limits.
Thorne uses precise domestic details to ground the story: the 'little oil-stove' Nan kindles in her room, the 'raw cold' of early mornings, and the 'sick, dizzy' feeling that signals her breakdown. These sensory specifics make Nan's predicament tangible, while the brisk dialogue between Nan and Dr. Algar reveals her stubbornness and the social pressures on a young woman of limited means.
A Doctor's Verdict and a New Direction
The opening chapter hinges on a single prohibition—'no books'—which Nan experiences as 'a sentence of doom.' Thorne quickly establishes Nan's character through her reaction: she protests, then recounts her punishing study routine. The narrative voice is intimate and confiding, using first-person to draw the reader into Nan's frustration. The doctor's order is not merely a plot device; it reveals the era's attitudes toward women's education and health. Nan's ambition to become a teacher is thwarted not by lack of ability but by physical collapse. The chapter ends with Nan's reluctant acceptance, setting the stage for her move to the country.
Notably, the prohibition is qualified: 'you may not read a storybook now and then.' This small concession hints that the novel itself may serve as Nan's permitted leisure reading, a meta-textual irony. The excerpt also introduces the motif of light and darkness—gaslight, oil-stove, early mornings—which recurs throughout the narrative.
Country Life and Unexpected Guests
Once at 'Gay Bowers,' Nan encounters a cast of paying guests that includes the American visitors and the enigmatic Miss Cottrell. Thorne populates the household with distinct personalities: Aunt Patty, practical and quietly observant; Mr. Dicks, a worried father; and the cheerful Miss Cottrell, who 'smiled and nodded briskly.' The dialogue is peppered with period idioms and social cues, such as Mr. Dicks's praise of Miss Cottrell as 'an excellent woman.'
A key scene involves a letter from Nan's mother, hinting at 'surprising news' about Nan's sister Olive. Nan's reaction—'the colour flew into my face'—and her disbelief that Olive might be engaged reveal her dependence on family stability. The excerpt also shows Nan's growing attachment to the household, as she observes the dynamics between guests and hosts. Thorne uses these interactions to advance the romantic plot without overt declarations, relying on implication and misdirection.
Illness, Quarantine, and Family Ties
An outbreak of illness at 'Gay Bowers' forces Nan into quarantine, a plot turn that heightens tension and allows for introspection. The doctor's arrival from London underscores the seriousness of the situation, while Nan's mother's letter reassures her of immunity. Thorne balances the threat of disease with domestic comedy: Aunt Patty's decision to 'turn me out of the house' is presented as a practical measure, not a rejection.
Nan's journey home to Clapham introduces her sister Peggy, an art student who 'never was shy.' The sisters' banter—Peggy complaining that talking to Jack gave her 'a pain at the back of her neck'—lightens the mood. The mystery of Olive's engagement persists, with Nan's curiosity driving the narrative forward. Thorne uses these family scenes to contrast Nan's rural exile with her urban roots, and to reinforce the theme of hidden information.
Narrative Voice and Structural Choices
Thorne employs a first-person narrator whose voice is consistent and engaging. Nan's observations are detailed but not overwrought; she notes the 'welcome shade of trees' on Clapham Common and the 'muslin blinds' at Ivy House. The prose is plain but evocative, relying on concrete nouns and active verbs. The chapter titles—'An Unwelcome Decree,' 'My Equipment,' 'Gay Bowers'—signal a structured, episodic plot.
The excerpts reveal a pattern of delayed revelation: the doctor's decree, the mother's letter, the hinted engagement. Thorne withholds key information to maintain suspense, a technique suited to serialized fiction. The illustrations by W. Rainey, mentioned in the front matter, suggest that visual cues complement the text. Readers should attend to Nan's emotional states—her dismay, curiosity, and relief—as they guide the story's pace.
Thorne's novel rewards attention to its small, telling details: the oil-stove, the muslin blinds, the pain at the back of Peggy's neck. These specifics anchor the romance in a believable world. As you read, note how Nan's voice shifts between earnestness and irony, and how the paying guests' arrivals complicate her quiet country life. The story unfolds through letters, conversations, and Nan's own reflections—each a clue to the larger design.
Reading about Nan, forbidden to study, reminded me of my own summer on a creaking porch, a hidden notebook under the cushion. That ache for quiet learning found an echo in the gentle unhurried pace of Stella Rosevelt — Background and Themes, where a similar longing felt less like a plot point and more like a held breath.
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