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Eight Cousins; Or, The Aunt-Hill

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Title: Eight Cousins; Or, The Aunt-Hill

Author: Louisa May Alcott


        
Release date: January 13, 2012 [eBook #38567]

Language: English

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[Illustration: ROSE AND HER AUNTS.--Page 37.]


EIGHT COUSINS;

Or,

The Aunt-Hill.

by

LOUISA M. ALCOTT,

Author of "Little Women," "An Old-Fashioned Girl," "Little Men,"
"Rose in Bloom," "Under the Lilacs," "Jack and Jill,"
"Hospital Sketches," "Work," "Silver Pitchers,"
"Aunt Jo's Scrap-Bag."

With Illustrations.

[Illustration]

    BOSTON:
    ROBERTS BROTHERS.
    1887.




    Copyright, 1874,
    BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.


    UNIVERSITY PRESS:
    JOHN WILSON & SON, CAMBRIDGE.




      To

      The many boys & girls whose letters it has been
      impossible to answer, this book is dedicated as a
      peace offering by their friend

                                           L. M. Alcott




PREFACE.


The Author is quite aware of the defects of this little story, many of
which were unavoidable, as it first appeared serially. But, as Uncle
Alec's experiment was intended to amuse the young folks, rather than
suggest educational improvements for the consideration of the elders,
she trusts that these short-comings will be overlooked by the friends of
the EIGHT COUSINS, and she will try to make amends in a second volume,
which shall attempt to show THE ROSE IN BLOOM.

                                                      L. M. A.




CONTENTS.


    CHAPTER                                      PAGE

        I. TWO GIRLS                               1

       II. THE CLAN                               10

      III. UNCLES                                 23

       IV. AUNTS                                  37

        V. A BELT AND A BOX                       47

       VI. UNCLE ALEC'S ROOM                      59

      VII. A TRIP TO CHINA                        71

     VIII. AND WHAT CAME OF IT                    84

       IX. PHEBE'S SECRET                         93

        X. ROSE'S SACRIFICE                      108

       XI. POOR MAC                              118

      XII. "THE OTHER FELLOWS"                   129

     XIII. COSEY CORNER                          141

      XIV. A HAPPY BIRTHDAY                      149

       XV. EAR-RINGS                             165

      XVI. BREAD AND BUTTON-HOLES                179

     XVII. GOOD BARGAINS                         191

    XVIII. FASHION AND PHYSIOLOGY                204

      XIX. BROTHER BONES                         216

       XX. UNDER THE MISTLETOE                   226

      XXI. A SCARE                               241

     XXII. SOMETHING TO DO                       253

    XXIII. PEACE-MAKING                          265

     XXIV. WHICH?                                279




EIGHT COUSINS.




CHAPTER I.

_TWO GIRLS._


ROSE sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchief
laid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of her
troubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as a
good place in which to be miserable; for it was dark and still, full of
ancient furniture, sombre curtains, and hung all round with portraits of
solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps, and
staring children in little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks. It
_was_ an excellent place for woe; and the fitful spring rain that
pattered on the window-pane seemed to sob, "Cry away: I'm with you."

Rose really did have some cause to be sad; for she had no mother, and
had lately lost her father also, which left her no home but this with
her great-aunts. She had been with them only a week, and, though the
dear old ladies had tried their best to make her happy, they had not
succeeded very well, for she was unlike any child they had ever seen,
and they felt very much as if they had the care of a low-spirited
butterfly.

They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or two she
had amused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital old
mansion, and was full of all manner of odd nooks, charming rooms, and
mysterious passages. Windows broke out in unexpected places, little
balconies overhung the garden most romantically, and there was a long
upper hall full of curiosities from all parts of the world; for the
Campbells had been sea-captains for generations.

Aunt Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china
closet,--a spicy retreat, rich in all the "goodies" that children love;
but Rose seemed to care little for these toothsome temptations; and when
that hope failed, Aunt Plenty gave up in despair.

Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needle-work, and planned
a doll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even an older child.
But Rose took little interest in pink satin hats and tiny hose, though
she sewed dutifully till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with the
train of a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewing
society.

Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the model
child of the neighborhood to come and play with their niece. But Annabel
Bliss was the worst failure of all, for Rose could not bear the sight of
her, and said she was so like a wax doll she longed to give her a pinch
and see if she would squeak. So prim little Annabel was sent home, and
the exhausted aunties left Rose to her own devices for a day or two.

Bad weather and a cold kept her in-doors, and she spent most of her time
in the library where her father's books were stored. Here she read a
great deal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the innocent bright
dreams in which imaginative children find such comfort and delight. This
suited her better than any thing else, but it was not good for her, and
she grew pale, heavy-eyed, and listless, though Aunt Plenty gave her
iron enough to make a cooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a
poodle.

Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new amusement,
and determined to venture a bold stroke, though not very hopeful of its
success. They said nothing to Rose about their plan for this Saturday
afternoon, but let her alone till the time came for the grand surprise,
little dreaming that the odd child would find pleasure for herself in a
most unexpected quarter.

Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear a sound broke the
stillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitter of
a bird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while she
listened the soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, a
coo, a chirp, and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if the
bird burst out laughing. Rose laughed also, and, forgetting her woes,
jumped up, saying eagerly,--

"It is a mocking-bird. Where is it?"

Running down the long hall, she peeped out at both doors, but saw
nothing feathered except a draggle-tailed chicken under a burdock leaf.
She listened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house. Away she
went, much excited by the chase, and following the changeful song it led
her to the china-closet door.

"In there? How funny!" she said. But when she entered, not a bird
appeared except the everlastingly kissing swallows on the Canton china
that lined the shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face brightened, and,
softly opening the slide, she peered into the kitchen. But the music had
stopped, and all she saw was a girl in a blue apron scrubbing the
hearth. Rose stared about her for a minute, and then asked abruptly,--

"Did you hear that mocking-bird?"

"I should call it a phebe-bird," answered the girl, looking up with a
twinkle in her black eyes.

"Where did it go?"

"It is here still."

"Where?"

"In my throat. Do you want to hear it?"

"Oh, yes! I'll come in." And Rose crept through the slide to the wide
shelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round by
the door.

The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of
carpet where she was stranded in a sea of soap-suds, and then, sure
enough, out of her slender throat came the swallow's twitter, the
robin's whistle, the blue-jay's call, the thrush's song, the wood-dove's
coo, and many another familiar note, all ending as before with the
musical ecstasy of a bobolink singing and swinging among the meadow
grass on a bright June day.

Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when the
little concert was over clapped her hands delightedly.

"Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you?"

"The birds," answered the girl, with a smile, as she fell to work
again.

"It is very wonderful! I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that.
What is your name, please?"

"Phebe Moore."

"I've heard of phebe-birds; but I don't believe the real ones could do
that," laughed Rose, adding, as she watched with interest the scattering
of dabs of soft soap over the bricks, "May I stay and see you work? It
is very lonely in the parlor."

"Yes, indeed, if you want to," answered Phebe, wringing out her cloth in
a capable sort of way that impressed Rose very much.

"It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd love
to do it, only aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose," said Rose, quite taken
with the new employment.

"You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on."

"I suppose you help your mother a good deal?"

"I haven't got any folks."

"Why, where do you live, then?"

"I'm going to live here, I hope. Debby wants some one to help round, and
I've come to try for a week."

"I hope you _will_ stay, for it is very dull," said Rose, who had taken
a sudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a
woman.

"Hope I shall; for I'm fifteen now, and old enough to earn my own
living. You have come to stay a spell, haven't you?" asked Phebe,
looking up at her guest and wondering how life _could_ be dull to a girl
who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and
had her hair tied up with a velvet snood.

"Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and I
don't know what he will do with me. Have you a guardian?"

"My sakes, no! I was left on the poor-house steps a little mite of a
baby, and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there ever
since. But she is dead now, and I take care of myself."

"How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in the 'Gypsy's Child.'
Did you ever read that sweet story?" asked Rose, who was fond of tales
of foundlings, and had read many.

"I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run off
into the woods; that rests me better than stories," answered Phebe, as
she finished one job and began on another.

Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over, and
wondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play. Presently
Phebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions, and said,
wistfully,--

"You've had lots of schooling, I suppose?"

"Oh, dear me, yes! I've been at boarding-school nearly a year, and I'm
almost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss Power gave me,
and I was so miserable I 'most cried my eyes out. Papa never gave me
hard things to do, and he always taught me so pleasantly I loved to
study. Oh, we were so happy and so fond of one another! But now he is
gone, and I am left all alone."

The tear that would not come when Rose sat waiting for it came now of
its own accord,--two of them in fact,--and rolled down her cheeks,
telling the tale of love and sorrow better than any words could do it.

For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen but the little daughter's
sobbing and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phebe stopped rattling
her beans from one pan to the other, and her eyes were full of pity as
they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that
the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty
apron was used to dry sadder tears than any she had ever shed.

Somehow, she felt more contented with her brown calico gown and
blue-checked pinafore; envy changed to compassion; and if she had dared
she would have gone and hugged her afflicted guest.

Fearing that might not be considered proper, she said, in her cheery
voice,--

"I'm sure you ain't all alone with such a lot of folks belonging to you,
and all so rich and clever. You'll be petted to pieces, Debby says,
because you are the only girl in the family."

Phebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she looked
out from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a tone of comic
distress,--

"That's one of my troubles! I've got six aunts, and they all want me,
and I don't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the
Aunt-hill, and now I see why."

Phebe laughed with her as she said encouragingly,--

"Every one calls it so, and it's a real good name, for all the Mrs.
Campbells live handy by, and keep coming up to see the old ladies."

"I could stand the aunts, but there are dozens of cousins, dreadful boys
all of them, and I detest boys! Some of them came to see me last
Wednesday, but I was lying down, and when auntie came to call me I went
under the quilt and pretended to be asleep. I shall _have_ to see them
some time, but I do dread it so." And Rose gave a shudder, for, having
lived alone with her invalid father, she knew nothing of boys, and
considered them a species of wild animal.

"Oh! I guess you'll like 'em. I've seen 'em flying round when they come
over from the Point, sometimes in their boats and sometimes on
horseback. If you like boats and horses, you'll enjoy yourself
first-rate."

"But I don't! I'm afraid of horses, and boats make me ill, and I _hate_
boys!" And poor Rose wrung her hands at the awful prospect before her.
One of these horrors alone she could have borne, but all together were
too much for her, and she began to think of a speedy return to the
detested school.

Phebe laughed at her woe till the beans danced in the pan, but tried to
comfort her by suggesting a means of relief.

"Perhaps your uncle will take you away where there ain't any boys. Debby
says he is a real kind man, and always brings heaps of nice things when
he comes."

"Yes, but you see that is another trouble, for I don't know Uncle Alec
at all. He hardly ever came to see us, though he sent me pretty things
very often. Now I belong to him, and shall have to mind him, till I am
eighteen. I may not like him a bit, and I fret about it all the time."

"Well, I wouldn't borrow trouble, but have a real good time. I'm sure I
should think I was in clover if I had folks and money, and nothing to do
but enjoy myself," began Phebe, but got no further, for a sudden rush
and rumble outside made them both jump.

"It's thunder," said Phebe.

"It's a circus!" cried Rose, who from her elevated perch had caught
glimpses of a gay cart of some sort and several ponies with flying manes
and tails.

The sound died away, and the girls were about to continue their
confidences when old Debby appeared, looking rather cross and sleepy
after her nap.

"You are wanted in the parlor, Miss Rose."

"Has anybody come?"

"Little girls shouldn't ask questions, but do as they are bid," was all
Debby would answer.

"I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra; she always scares me out of my wits
asking how my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to die,"
said Rose, preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide, being
cut for the admission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and puddings, was
plenty large enough for a slender girl.

"Guess you'll wish it _was_ Aunt Myra when you see who has come. Don't
never let me catch you coming into my kitchen that way again, or I'll
shut you up in the big biler," growled Debby, who thought it her duty to
snub children on all occasions.




CHAPTER II.

_THE CLAN._


ROSE scrambled into the china-closet as rapidly as possible, and there
refreshed herself by making faces at Debby, while she settled her
plumage and screwed up her courage. Then she crept softly down the hall
and peeped into the parlor. No one appeared, and all was so still she
felt sure the company was upstairs. So she skipped boldly through the
half-open folding-doors, to behold on the other side a sight that nearly
took her breath away.

Seven boys stood in a row,--all ages, all sizes, all yellow-haired and
blue-eyed, all in full Scotch costume, and all smiling, nodding, and
saying as with one voice, "How are you, cousin?"

Rose gave a little gasp and looked wildly about her as if ready to fly,
for fear magnified the seven and the room seemed full of boys. Before
she could run, however, the tallest lad stepped out of the line, saying
pleasantly,--

"Don't be frightened. This is the clan come to welcome you; and I'm the
chief, Archie, at your service."

[Illustration: THE EIGHT COUSINS.--Page 10.]

He held out his hand as he spoke, and Rose timidly put her own into a
brown paw, which closed over the white morsel and held it as the chief
continued his introductions.

"We came in full rig, for we always turn out in style on grand
occasions. Hope you like it. Now I'll tell you who these chaps are, and
then we shall be all right. This big one is Prince Charlie, Aunt Clara's
boy. She has but one, so he is an extra good one. This old fellow is
Mac, the bookworm, called Worm for short. This sweet creature is Steve
the Dandy. Look at his gloves and top-knot, if you please. They are Aunt
Jane's lads, and a precious pair you'd better believe. These are the
Brats, my brothers, Geordie and Will, and Jamie the Baby. Now, my men,
step out and show your manners."

At this command, to Rose's great dismay, six more hands were offered,
and it was evident that she was expected to shake them _all_. It was a
trying moment to the bashful child; but, remembering that they were her
kinsmen come to welcome her, she tried her best to return the greeting
cordially.

This impressive ceremony being over, the clan broke ranks, and both
rooms instantly appeared to be pervaded with boys. Rose hastily retired
to the shelter of a big chair and sat there watching the invaders and
wondering when her aunt would come and rescue her.

As if bound to do their duty manfully, yet rather oppressed by it, each
lad paused beside her chair in his wanderings, made a brief remark,
received a still briefer answer, and then sheered off with a relieved
expression.

Archie came first, and, leaning over the chair-back, observed in a
paternal tone,--

"I'm glad you've come, cousin, and I hope you'll find the Aunt-hill
pretty jolly."

"I think I shall."

Mac shook his hair out of his eyes, stumbled over a stool, and asked
abruptly,--

"Did you bring any books with you?"

"Four boxes full. They are in the library."

Mac vanished from the room, and Steve, striking an attitude which
displayed his costume effectively, said with an affable smile,--

"We were sorry not to see you last Wednesday. I hope your cold is
better."

"Yes, thank you." And a smile began to dimple about Rose's mouth as she
remembered her retreat under the bed-cover.

Feeling that he had been received with distinguished marks of attention,
Steve strolled away with his top-knot higher than ever, and Prince
Charlie pranced across the room, saying in a free and easy tone,--

"Mamma sent her love and hopes you will be well enough to come over for
a day next week. It must be desperately dull here for a little thing
like you."

"I'm thirteen and a half, though I _do_ look small," cried Rose,
forgetting her shyness in indignation at this insult to her newly
acquired teens.

"Beg pardon, ma'am; never should have guessed it." And Charlie went off
with a laugh, glad to have struck a spark out of his meek cousin.

Geordie and Will came together, two sturdy eleven and twelve year
olders, and, fixing their round blue eyes on Rose, fired off a question
apiece as if it was a shooting match and she the target.

"Did you bring your monkey?"

"No; he is dead."

"Are you going to have a boat?"

"I hope not."

Here the two, with a right-about-face movement, abruptly marched away,
and little Jamie demanded with childish frankness,--

"Did you bring me any thing nice?"

"Yes, lots of candy," answered Rose, whereupon Jamie ascended into her
lap with a sounding kiss and the announcement that he liked her very
much.

This proceeding rather startled Rose, for the other lads looked and
laughed, and in her confusion she said hastily to the young usurper,--

"Did you see the circus go by?"

"When? Where?" cried all the boys in great excitement at once.

"Just before you came. At least I thought it was a circus, for I saw a
red and black sort of cart and ever so many little ponies, and--"

She got no farther, for a general shout made her pause suddenly, as
Archie explained the joke by saying in the middle of his laugh,--

"It was our new dog-cart and the Shetland ponies. You'll never hear the
last of your circus, cousin."

"But there were so many, and they went so fast, and the cart was so very
red," began Rose, trying to explain her mistake.

"Come and see them all!" cried the Prince. And before she knew what was
happening she was borne away to the barn and tumultuously introduced to
three shaggy ponies and the gay new dog-cart.

She had never visited these regions before, and had her doubts as to the
propriety of her being there now, but when she suggested that "Auntie
might not like it," there was a general cry of,--

"She told us to amuse you, and we can do it ever so much better out here
than poking round in the house."

"I'm afraid I shall get cold without my sacque," began Rose, who wanted
to stay, but felt rather out of her element.

"No, you won't! We'll fix you," cried the lads, as one clapped his cap
on her head, another tied a rough jacket round her neck by the sleeves,
a third nearly smothered her in a carriage blanket, and a fourth threw
open the door of the old barouche that stood there, saying with a
flourish,--

"Step in, ma'am, and make yourself comfortable while we show you some
fun."

So Rose sat in state enjoying herself very much, for the lads proceeded
to dance a Highland Fling with a spirit and skill that made her clap her
hands and laugh as she had not done for weeks.

"How is that, my lassie?" asked the Prince, coming up all flushed and
breathless when the ballet was over.

"It was splendid! I never went to the theatre but once, and the dancing
was not half so pretty as this. What clever boys you must be!" said
Rose, smiling upon her kinsmen like a little queen upon her subjects.

"Ah, we're a fine lot, and that is only the beginning of our larks. We
haven't got the pipes here or we'd

    'Sing for you, play for you
      A dulcy melody.'"

answered Charlie, looking much elated at her praise.

"I did not know we were Scotch; papa never said any thing about it, or
seemed to care about Scotland, except to have me sing the old ballads,"
said Rose, beginning to feel as if she had left America behind her
somewhere.

"Neither did we till lately. We've been reading Scott's novels, and all
of a sudden we remembered that our grandfather was a Scotchman. So we
hunted up the old stories, got a bagpipe, put on our plaids, and went
in, heart and soul, for the glory of the clan. We've been at it some
time now, and it's great fun. Our people like it, and I think we are a
pretty canny set."

Archie said this from the other coach-step, where he had perched, while
the rest climbed up before and behind to join in the chat as they
rested.

"I'm Fitzjames and he's Roderick Dhu, and we'll give you the broadsword
combat some day. It's a great thing, you'd better believe," added the
Prince.

"Yes, and you should hear Steve play the pipes. He makes 'em skirl like
a good one," cried Will from the box, eager to air the accomplishments
of his race.

"Mac's the fellow to hunt up the old stories and tell us how to dress
right, and pick out rousing bits for us to speak and sing," put in
Geordie, saying a good word for the absent Worm.

"And what do you and Will do?" asked Rose of Jamie, who sat beside her
as if bound to keep her in sight till the promised gift had been handed
over.

"Oh, I'm the little foot-page, and do errands, and Will and Geordie are
the troops when we march, and the stags when we hunt, and the traitors
when we want to cut any heads off."

"They are very obliging, I'm sure," said Rose, whereat the "utility men"
beamed with modest pride, and resolved to enact Wallace and Montrose as
soon as possible for their cousin's special benefit.

"Let's have a game of tag," cried the Prince, swinging himself up to a
beam with a sounding slap on Stevie's shoulder.

Regardless of his gloves, Dandy tore after him, and the rest swarmed in
every direction as if bent on breaking their necks and dislocating their
joints as rapidly as possible.

It was a new and astonishing spectacle to Rose, fresh from a prim
boarding-school, and she watched the active lads with breathless
interest, thinking their antics far superior to those of Mops, the dear
departed monkey.

Will had just covered himself with glory by pitching off of a high loft
head first and coming up all right, when Phebe appeared with a cloak,
hood, and rubbers, also a message from Aunt Plenty that "Miss Rose was
to come in directly."

"All right; we'll bring her!" answered Archie, issuing some mysterious
order, which was so promptly obeyed that, before Rose could get out of
the carriage, the boys had caught hold of the pole and rattled her out
of the barn, round the oval and up to the front door with a cheer that
brought two caps to an upper window, and caused Debby to cry aloud from
the back porch,--

"Them harum-scarum boys will certainly be the death of that delicate
little creter!"

But the "delicate little creter" seemed all the better for her trip, and
ran up the steps looking rosy, gay, and dishevelled, to be received with
lamentation by Aunt Plenty, who begged her to go and lie down at once.

"Oh, please don't! We have come to tea with our cousin, and we'll be as
good as gold if you'll let us stay, auntie," clamored the boys, who not
only approved of "our cousin," but had no mind to lose their tea, for
Aunt Plenty's name but feebly expressed her bountiful nature.

"Well, dears, you can; only be quiet, and let Rose go and take her iron
and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for supper,"
said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley of
directions for the approaching feast.

"Marmalade for me, auntie."

"Plenty of plum-cake, please."

"Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears."

"I'm your man for lemon-pie, ma'am."

"Do have fritters; Rose will like 'em."

"She'd rather have tarts, _I_ know."

When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl smoothed and
her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys loafing about the long
hall, and paused on the half-way landing to take an observation, for
till now she had not really examined her new-found cousins.

There was a strong family resemblance among them, though some of the
yellow heads were darker than others, some of the cheeks brown instead
of rosy, and the ages varied all the way from sixteen-year-old Archie to
Jamie, who was ten years younger. None of them were especially comely
but the Prince, yet all were hearty, happy-looking lads, and Rose
decided that boys were not as dreadful as she had expected to find them.

They were all so characteristically employed that she could not help
smiling as she looked. Archie and Charlie, evidently great cronies, were
pacing up and down, shoulder to shoulder, whistling "Bonnie Dundee;" Mac
was reading in a corner, with his book close to his near-sighted eyes;
Dandy was arranging his hair before the oval glass in the hat-stand;
Geordie and Will investigating the internal economy of the moon-faced
clock; and Jamie lay kicking up his heels on the mat at the foot of the
stairs, bent on demanding his sweeties the instant Rose appeared.

She guessed his intention, and forestalled his demand by dropping a
handful of sugar-plums down upon him.

At his cry of rapture the other lads looked up and smiled involuntarily,
for the little kinswoman standing there above was a winsome sight with
her shy, soft eyes, bright hair, and laughing face. The black frock
reminded them of her loss, and filled the boyish hearts with a kindly
desire to be good to "our cousin," who had no longer any home but this.

"There she is, as fine as you please," cried Steve, kissing his hand to
her.

"Come on, Missy; tea is ready," added the Prince encouragingly.

"_I_ shall take her in." And Archie offered his arm with great dignity,
an honor that made Rose turn as red as a cherry and long to run upstairs
again.

It was a merry supper, and the two elder boys added much to the fun by
tormenting the rest with dark hints of some interesting event which was
about to occur. Something uncommonly fine they declared it was, but
enveloped in the deepest mystery for the present.

"Did I ever see it?" asked Jamie.

"Not to remember it; but Mac and Steve have, and liked it immensely,"
answered Archie, thereby causing the two mentioned to neglect Debby's
delectable fritters for several minutes, while they cudgelled their
brains.

"Who will have it first?" asked Will, with his mouth full of marmalade.

"Aunt Plenty, I guess."

"When will she have it?" demanded Geordie, bouncing in his seat with
impatience.

"Sometime on Monday."

"Heart alive! what is the boy talking about?" cried the old lady from
behind the tall urn, which left little to be seen but the topmost bow of
her cap.

"Doesn't auntie know?" asked a chorus of voices.

"No; and that's the best of the joke, for she is desperately fond of
it."

"What color is it?" asked Rose, joining in the fun.

"Blue and brown."

"Is it good to eat?" asked Jamie.

"Some people think so, but I shouldn't like to try it," answered
Charlie, laughing so he spilt his tea.

"Who does it belong to?" put in Steve.

Archie and the Prince stared at one another rather blankly for a minute,
then Archie answered with a twinkle of the eye that made Charlie explode
again,--

"To Grandfather Campbell."

This was a poser, and they gave up the puzzle, though Jamie confided to
Rose that he did not think he could live till Monday without knowing
what this remarkable thing was.

Soon after tea the Clan departed, singing "All the blue bonnets are over
the border" at the tops of their voices.

"Well, dear, how do you like your cousins?" asked Aunt Plenty, as the
last pony frisked round the corner and the din died away.

"Pretty well, ma'am; but I like Phebe better." An answer which caused
Aunt Plenty to hold up her hands in despair and trot away to tell sister
Peace that she never _should_ understand that child, and it was a mercy
Alec was coming soon to take the responsibility off their hands.

Fatigued by the unusual exertions of the afternoon, Rose curled herself
up in the sofa corner to rest and think about the great mystery, little
guessing that she was to know it first of all.

Right in the middle of her meditations, she fell asleep and dreamed she
was at home again in her own little bed. She seemed to wake and see her
father bending over her; to hear him say, "My little Rose;" to answer,
"Yes, papa;" and then to feel him take her in his arms and kiss her
tenderly. So sweet, so real was the dream, that she started up with a
cry of joy to find herself in the arms of a brown, bearded man, who held
her close, and whispered in a voice so like her father's that she clung
to him involuntarily,--

"This is my little girl, and I am Uncle Alec."




CHAPTER III.

_UNCLES._


WHEN Rose woke next morning, she was not sure whether she had dreamed
what occurred the night before, or it had actually happened. So she
hopped up and dressed, although it was an hour earlier than she usually
rose, for she could not sleep any more, being possessed with a strong
desire to slip down and see if the big portmanteau and packing-cases
were really in the hall. She seemed to remember tumbling over them when
she went to bed, for the aunts had sent her off very punctually, because
they wanted their pet nephew all to themselves.

The sun was shining, and Rose opened her window to let in the soft May
air fresh from the sea. As she leaned over her little balcony, watching
an early bird get the worm, and wondering how she should like Uncle
Alec, she saw a man leap the garden wall and come whistling up the path.
At first she thought it was some trespasser, but a second look showed
her that it was her uncle returning from an early dip into the sea. She
had hardly dared to look at him the night before, because whenever she
tried to do so she always found a pair of keen blue eyes looking at her.
Now she could take a good stare at him as he lingered along, looking
about him as if glad to see the old place again.

A brown, breezy man, in a blue jacket, with no hat on the curly head
which he shook now and then like a water-dog; broad-shouldered, alert in
his motions, and with a general air of strength and stability about him
which pleased Rose, though she could not explain the feeling of comfort
it gave her. She had just said to herself, with a sense of relief, "I
guess I _shall_ like him, though he looks as if he made people mind,"
when he lifted his eyes to examine the budding horse-chestnut overhead,
and saw the eager face peering down at him. He waved his hand to her,
nodded, and called out in a bluff, cheery voice,--

"You are on deck early, little niece."

"I got up to see if you had really come, uncle."

"Did you? Well, come down here and make sure of it."

"I'm not allowed to go out before breakfast, sir."

"Oh, indeed!" with a shrug. "Then I'll come aboard and salute," he
added; and, to Rose's great amazement, Uncle Alec went up one of the
pillars of the back piazza hand over hand, stepped across the roof, and
swung himself into her balcony, saying, as he landed on the wide
balustrade: "Have you any doubts about me now, ma'am?"

Rose was so taken aback, she could only answer with a smile as she went
to meet him.

"How does my girl do this morning?" he asked, taking the little cold
hand she gave him in both his big warm ones.

"Pretty well, thank you, sir."

"Ah, but it should be _very well_. Why isn't it?"

"I always wake up with a headache, and feel tired."

"Don't you sleep well?"

"I lie awake a long time, and then I dream, and my sleep does not seem
to rest me much."

"What do you do all day?"

"Oh, I read, and sew a little, and take naps, and sit with auntie."

"No running about out of doors, or house-work, or riding, hey?"

"Aunt Plenty says I'm not strong enough for much exercise. I drive out
with her sometimes, but I don't care for it."

"I'm not surprised at that," said Uncle Alec, half to himself, adding,
in his quick way: "Who have you had to play with?"

"No one but Annabel Bliss, and she was _such_ a goose I couldn't bear
her. The boys came yesterday, and seemed rather nice; but, of course, I
couldn't play with them."

"Why not?"

"I'm too old to play with boys."

"Not a bit of it: that's just what you need, for you've been
molly-coddled too much. They are good lads, and you'll be mixed up with
them more or less for years to come, so you may as well be friends and
playmates at once. I will look you up some girls also, if I can find a
sensible one who is not spoilt by her nonsensical education."

"Phebe is sensible, I'm sure, and I like her, though I only saw her
yesterday," cried Rose, waking up suddenly.

"And who is Phebe, if you please?"

Rose eagerly told all she knew, and Uncle Alec listened, with an odd
smile lurking about his mouth, though his eyes were quite sober as he
watched the face before him.

"I'm glad to see that you are not aristocratic in your tastes, but I
don't quite make out why you like this young lady from the poor-house."

"You may laugh at me, but I do. I can't tell why, only she seems so
happy and busy, and sings so beautifully, and is strong enough to scrub
and sweep, and hasn't any troubles to plague her," said Rose, making a
funny jumble of reasons in her efforts to explain.

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, I was telling her about mine, and asked if she had any, and she
said, 'No, only I'd like to go to school, and I mean to some day.'"

"So she doesn't call desertion, poverty, and hard work, troubles? She's
a brave little girl, and I shall be proud to know her." And Uncle Alec
gave an approving nod, that made Rose wish she had been the one to earn
it.

"But what are these troubles of yours, child?" he asked, after a minute
of silence.

"Please don't ask me, uncle."

"Can't you tell them to me as well as to Phebe?"

Something in his tone made Rose feel that it would be better to speak
out and be done with it, so she answered, with sudden color and averted
eyes,--

"The greatest one was losing dear papa."

As she said that, Uncle Alec's arm came gently round her, and he drew
her to him, saying, in the voice so like papa's,--

"That _is_ a trouble which I cannot cure, my child; but I shall try to
make you feel it less. What else, dear?"

"I am so tired and poorly all the time, I can't do any thing I want to,
and it makes me cross," sighed Rose, rubbing the aching head like a
fretful child.

"That we _can_ cure and we _will_," said her uncle, with a decided nod
that made the curls bob on his head, so that Rose saw the gray ones
underneath the brown.

"Aunt Myra says I have no constitution, and never shall be strong,"
observed Rose, in a pensive tone, as if it was rather a nice thing to be
an invalid.

"Aunt Myra is a--ahem!--an excellent woman, but it is her hobby to
believe that every one is tottering on the brink of the grave; and, upon
my life, I believe she is offended if people don't fall into it! We will
show her how to make constitutions and turn pale-faced little ghosts
into rosy, hearty girls. That's my business, you know," he added, more
quietly, for his sudden outburst had rather startled Rose.

"I had forgotten you were a doctor. I'm glad of it, for I do want to be
well, only I hope you won't give me much medicine, for I've taken quarts
already, and it does me no good."

As she spoke, Rose pointed to a little table just inside the window, on
which appeared a regiment of bottles.

"Ah, ha! Now we'll see what mischief these blessed women have been at."
And, making a long arm, Dr. Alec set the bottles on the wide railing
before him, examined each carefully, smiled over some, frowned over
others, and said, as he put down the last: "Now I'll show you the best
way to take these messes." And, as quick as a flash, he sent one after
another smashing down into the posy-beds below.

"But Aunt Plenty won't like it; and Aunt Myra will be angry, for she
sent most of them!" cried Rose, half frightened and half pleased at such
energetic measures.

"You are my patient now, and I'll take the responsibility. My way of
giving physic is evidently the best, for you look better already," he
said, laughing so infectiously that Rose followed suit, saying
saucily,--

"If I don't like your medicines any better than those, I shall throw
them into the garden, and then what will you do?"

"When I prescribe such rubbish, I'll give you leave to pitch it
overboard as soon as you like. Now what is the next trouble?"

"I hoped you would forget to ask."

"But how can I help you if I don't know them? Come, let us have No. 3."

"It is very wrong, I suppose, but I do sometimes wish I had not _quite_
so many aunts. They are all very good to me, and I want to please them;
but they are so different, I feel sort of pulled to pieces among them,"
said Rose, trying to express the emotions of a stray chicken with six
hens all clucking over it at once.

Uncle Alec threw back his head and laughed like a boy, for he could
entirely understand how the good ladies had each put in her oar and
tried to paddle her own way, to the great disturbance of the waters and
the entire bewilderment of poor Rose.

"I intend to try a course of uncles now, and see how that suits your
constitution. I'm going to have you all to myself, and no one is to
give a word of advice unless I ask it. There is no other way to keep
order aboard, and I am captain of this little craft, for a time at
least. What comes next?"

But Rose stuck there, and grew so red, her uncle guessed what that
trouble was.

"I don't think I _can_ tell this one. It wouldn't be polite, and I feel
pretty sure that it isn't going to be a trouble any more."

As she blushed and stammered over these words, Dr. Alec turned his eyes
away to the distant sea, and said so seriously, so tenderly, that she
felt every word and long remembered them,--

"My child, I don't expect you to love and trust me all at once, but I do
want you to believe that I shall give my whole heart to this new duty;
and if I make mistakes, as I probably shall, no one will grieve over
them more bitterly than I. It is my fault that I am a stranger to you,
when I want to be your best friend. That is one of my mistakes, and I
never repented it more deeply than I do now. Your father and I had a
trouble once, and I thought I never could forgive him; so I kept away
for years. Thank God, we made it all up the last time I saw him, and he
told me then, that if he was forced to leave her he should bequeath his
little girl to me as a token of his love. I can't fill his place, but I
shall try to be a father to her; and if she learns to love me half as
well as she did the good one she has lost, I shall be a proud and happy
man. Will she believe this and try?"

Something in Uncle Alec's face touched Rose to the heart, and when he
held out his hand with that anxious, troubled look in his eyes, she was
moved to put up her innocent lips and seal the contract with a confiding
kiss. The strong arm held her close a minute, and she felt the broad
chest heave once as if with a great sigh of relief; but not a word was
spoken till a tap at the door made both start.

Rose popped her head through the window to say "come in," while Dr. Alec
hastily rubbed the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes and began to
whistle again.

Phebe appeared with a cup of coffee.

"Debby told me to bring this and help you get up," she said, opening her
black eyes wide, as if she wondered how on earth "the sailor man" got
there.

"I'm all dressed, so I don't need any help. I hope that is good and
strong," added Rose, eying the steaming cup with an eager look.

But she did not get it, for a brown hand took possession of it as her
uncle said quickly,--

"Hold hard, my lass, and let me overhaul that dose before you take it.
Do you drink all this strong coffee every morning, Rose?"

"Yes, sir, and I like it. Auntie says it 'tones' me up, and I always
feel better after it."

"This accounts for the sleepless nights, the flutter your heart gets
into at the least start, and this is why that cheek of yours is pale
yellow instead of rosy red. No more coffee for you, my dear, and by and
by you'll see that I am right. Any new milk downstairs, Phebe?"

"Yes, sir, plenty,--right in from the barn."

"That's the drink for my patient. Go bring me a pitcherful, and another
cup; I want a draught myself. This won't hurt the honeysuckles, for they
have no nerves to speak of." And, to Rose's great discomfort, the coffee
went after the medicine.

Dr. Alec saw the injured look she put on, but took no notice, and
presently banished it by saying pleasantly,--

"I've got a capital little cup among my traps, and I'll give it to you
to drink your milk in, as it is made of wood that is supposed to improve
whatever is put into it,--something like a quassia cup. That reminds me;
one of the boxes Phebe wanted to lug upstairs last night is for you.
Knowing that I was coming home to find a ready-made daughter, I picked
up all sorts of odd and pretty trifles along the way, hoping she would
be able to find something she liked among them all. Early to-morrow
we'll have a grand rummage. Here's our milk! I propose the health of
Miss Rose Campbell--and drink it with all my heart."

It was impossible for Rose to pout with the prospect of a delightful
boxful of gifts dancing before her eyes; so, in spite of herself, she
smiled as she drank her own health, and found that fresh milk was not a
hard dose to take.

"Now I must be off, before I am caught again with my wig in a toss,"
said Dr. Alec, preparing to descend the way he came.

"Do you always go in and out like a cat, uncle?" asked Rose, much amused
at his odd ways.

"I used to sneak out of my window when I was a boy, so I need not
disturb the aunts, and now I rather like it, for it's the shortest road,
and it keeps me limber when I have no rigging to climb. Good-by till
breakfast." And away he went down the water-spout, over the roof, and
vanished among the budding honeysuckles below.

"Ain't he a funny guardeen?" exclaimed Phebe, as she went off with the
cups.

"He is a very kind one, I think," answered Rose, following, to prowl
round the big boxes and try to guess which was hers.

When her uncle appeared at sound of the bell, he found her surveying
with an anxious face a new dish that smoked upon the table.

"Got a fresh trouble, Rosy?" he asked, stroking her smooth head.

"Uncle, _are_ you going to make me eat oatmeal?" asked Rose, in a tragic
tone.

"Don't you like it?"

"I de-test it!" answered Rose, with all the emphasis which a turned-up
nose, a shudder, and a groan could give to the three words.

"You are not a true Scotchwoman, if you don't like the 'parritch.' It's
a pity, for I made it myself, and thought we'd have such a good time
with all that cream to float it in. Well, never mind." And he sat down
with a disappointed air.

Rose had made up her mind to be obstinate about it, because she did
heartily "detest" the dish; but as Uncle Alec did not attempt to make
her obey, she suddenly changed her mind and thought she would.

"I'll try to eat it to please you, uncle; but people are always saying
how wholesome it is, and that makes me hate it," she said, half ashamed
at her silly excuse.

"I do want you to like it, because I wish my girl to be as well and
strong as Jessie's boys, who are brought up on this in the good old
fashion. No hot bread and fried stuff for them, and they are the biggest
and bonniest lads of the lot. Bless you, auntie, and good morning!"

Dr. Alec turned to greet the old lady, and, with a firm resolve to eat
or die in the attempt, Rose sat down.

In five minutes she forgot what she was eating, so interested was she in
the chat that went on. It amused her very much to hear Aunt Plenty call
her forty-year-old nephew "my dear boy;" and Uncle Alec was so full of
lively gossip about all creation in general, and the Aunt-hill in
particular, that the detested porridge vanished without a murmur.

"You will go to church with us, I hope, Alec, if you are not too tired,"
said the old lady, when breakfast was over.

"I came all the way from Calcutta for that express purpose, ma'am. Only
I must send the sisters word of my arrival, for they don't expect me
till to-morrow, you know, and there will be a row in church if those
boys see me without warning."

"I'll send Ben up the hill, and you can step over to Myra's yourself; it
will please her, and you will have plenty of time."

Dr. Alec was off at once, and they saw no more of him till the old
barouche was at the door, and Aunt Plenty just rustling downstairs in
her Sunday best, with Rose like a little black shadow behind her.

Away they drove in state, and all the way Uncle Alec's hat was more off
his head than on, for every one they met smiled and bowed, and gave him
as blithe a greeting as the day permitted.

It was evident that the warning had been a wise one, for, in spite of
time and place, the lads were in such a ferment that their elders sat in
momentary dread of an unseemly outbreak somewhere. It was simply
impossible to keep those fourteen eyes off Uncle Alec, and the dreadful
things that were done during sermon-time will hardly be believed.

Rose dared not look up after a while, for these bad boys vented their
emotions upon her till she was ready to laugh and cry with mingled
amusement and vexation. Charlie winked rapturously at her behind his
mother's fan; Mac openly pointed to the tall figure beside her; Jamie
stared fixedly over the back of his pew, till Rose thought his round
eyes would drop out of his head; George fell over a stool and dropped
three books in his excitement; Will drew sailors and Chinamen on his
clean cuffs, and displayed them, to Rose's great tribulation; Steve
nearly upset the whole party by burning his nose with salts, as he
pretended to be overcome by his joy; even dignified Archie disgraced
himself by writing in his hymn-book, "Isn't he _blue_ and _brown_?" and
passing it politely to Rose.

Her only salvation was trying to fix her attention upon Uncle Mac,--a
portly, placid gentleman, who seemed entirely unconscious of the
iniquities of the Clan, and dozed peacefully in his pew corner. This was
the only uncle Rose had met for years, for Uncle Jem and Uncle Steve,
the husbands of Aunt Jessie and Aunt Clara, were at sea, and Aunt Myra
was a widow. Uncle Mac was a merchant, very rich and busy, and as quiet
as a mouse at home, for he was in such a minority among the women folk
he dared not open his lips, and let his wife rule undisturbed.

Rose liked the big, kindly, silent man who came to her when papa died,
was always sending her splendid boxes of goodies at school, and often
invited her into his great warehouse, full of teas and spices, wines and
all sorts of foreign fruits, there to eat and carry away whatever she
liked. She had secretly regretted that he was not to be her guardian;
but since she had seen Uncle Alec she felt better about it, for she did
not particularly admire Aunt Jane.

When church was over, Dr. Alec got into the porch as quickly as
possible, and there the young bears had a hug all round, while the
sisters shook hands and welcomed him with bright faces and glad hearts.
Rose was nearly crushed flat behind a door in that dangerous passage
from pew to porch; but Uncle Mac rescued her, and put her into the
carriage for safe keeping.

"Now, girls, I want you all to come and dine with Alec; Mac also, of
course. But I cannot ask the boys, for we did not expect this dear
fellow till to-morrow, you know, so I made no preparations. Send the
lads home, and let them wait till Monday, for really I was shocked at
their behavior in church," said Aunt Plenty, as she followed Rose.

In any other place the defrauded boys would have set up a howl; as it
was, they growled and protested till Dr. Alec settled the matter by
saying,--

"Never mind, old chaps, I'll make it up to you to-morrow, if you sheer
off quietly; if you don't, not a blessed thing shall you have out of my
big boxes."




CHAPTER IV.

_AUNTS._


ALL dinner-time Rose felt that she was going to be talked about, and
afterward she was sure of it, for Aunt Plenty whispered to her as they
went into the parlor,--

"Run up and sit awhile with Sister Peace, my dear. She likes to have you
read while she rests, and we are going to be busy."

Rose obeyed, and the quiet rooms above were so like a church that she
soon composed her ruffled feelings, and was unconsciously a little
minister of happiness to the sweet old lady, who for years had sat there
patiently waiting to be set free from pain.

Rose knew the sad romance of her life, and it gave a certain tender
charm to this great-aunt of hers, whom she already loved. When Peace was
twenty, she was about to be married; all was done, the wedding-dress lay
ready, the flowers were waiting to be put on, the happy hour at hand,
when word came that the lover was dead. They thought that gentle Peace
would die too; but she bore it bravely, put away her bridal gear, took
up her life afresh, and lived on,--a beautiful, meek woman, with hair
as white as snow and cheeks that never bloomed again. She wore no
black, but soft, pale colors, as if always ready for the marriage that
had never come.

For thirty years she had lived on, fading slowly, but cheerful, busy,
and full of interest in all that went on in the family; especially the
joys and sorrows of the young girls growing up about her, and to them
she was adviser, confidante, and friend in all their tender trials and
delights. A truly beautiful old maiden, with her silvery hair, tranquil
face, and an atmosphere of repose about her that soothed whoever came to
her!

Aunt Plenty was utterly dissimilar, being a stout, brisk old lady, with
a sharp eye, a lively tongue, and a face like a winter-apple. Always
trotting, chatting, and bustling, she was a regular Martha, cumbered
with the cares of this world and quite happy in them.

Rose was right; and while she softly read psalms to Aunt Peace, the
other ladies were talking about her little self in the frankest manner.

"Well, Alec, how do you like your ward?" began Aunt Jane, as they all
settled down, and Uncle Mac deposited himself in a corner to finish his
doze.

"I should like her better if I could have begun at the beginning, and so
got a fair start. Poor George led such a solitary life that the child
has suffered in many ways, and since he died she has been going on worse
than ever, judging from the state I find her in."

"My dear boy, we did what we thought best while waiting for you to wind
up your affairs and get home. I always told George he was wrong to bring
her up as he did; but he never took my advice and now here we are with
this poor dear child upon our hands. I, for one, freely confess that I
don't know what to do with her any more than if she was one of those
strange, outlandish birds you used to bring home from foreign parts."
And Aunt Plenty gave a perplexed shake of the head which caused great
commotion among the stiff loops of purple ribbon that bristled all over
her cap like crocus buds.

"If _my_ advice had been taken, she would have remained at the excellent
school where I placed her. But our aunt thought best to remove her
because she complained, and she has been dawdling about ever since she
came. A most ruinous state of things for a morbid, spoilt girl like
Rose," said Mrs. Jane, severely.

She had never forgiven the old ladies for yielding to Rose's pathetic
petition that she might wait her guardian's arrival before beginning
another term at the school, which was a regular Blimber hot-bed, and
turned out many a feminine Toots.

"_I_ never thought it the proper school for a child in good
circumstances,--an heiress, in fact, as Rose is. It is all very well for
girls who are to get their own living by teaching, and that sort of
thing; but all _she_ needs is a year or two at a fashionable
finishing-school, so that at eighteen she can come out with _éclat_,"
put in Aunt Clara, who had been a beauty and a belle, and was still a
handsome woman.

"Dear, dear! how short-sighted you all are to be discussing education
and plans for the future, when this unhappy child is so plainly marked
for the tomb," sighed Aunt Myra, with a lugubrious sniff and a solemn
wag of the funereal bonnet, which she refused to remove, being afflicted
with a chronic catarrh.

"Now, it is my opinion that the dear thing only wants freedom, rest, and
care. There is a look in her eyes that goes to my heart, for it shows
that she feels the need of what none of us can give her,--a mother,"
said Aunt Jessie, with tears in her own bright eyes at the thought of
her boys being left, as Rose was, to the care of others.

Uncle Alec, who had listened silently as each spoke, turned quickly
toward the last sister, and said, with a decided nod of approval,--

"You've got it, Jessie; and, with you to help me, I hope to make the
child feel that she is not quite fatherless and motherless."

"I'll do my best, Alec; and I think you _will_ need me, for, wise as you
are, you cannot understand a tender, timid little creature like Rose as
a woman can," said Mrs. Jessie, smiling back at him with a heart full of
motherly good-will.

"I cannot help feeling that _I_, who have had a daughter of my own, can
best bring up a girl; and I am _very_ much surprised that George did not
intrust her to me," observed Aunt Myra, with an air of melancholy
importance, for she was the only one who had given a daughter to the
family, and she felt that she had distinguished herself, though
ill-natured people said that she had dosed her darling to death.

"I never blamed him in the least, when I remember the perilous
experiments you tried with poor Carrie," began Mrs. Jane, in her hard
voice.

"Jane Campbell, I will _not_ hear a word! My sainted Caroline is a
sacred subject," cried Aunt Myra, rising as if to leave the room.

Dr. Alec detained her, feeling that he must define his position at once,
and maintain it manfully if he hoped to have any success in his new
undertaking.

"Now, my dear souls, don't let us quarrel and make Rose a bone of
contention,--though, upon my word, she _is_ almost a bone, poor little
lass! You have had her among you for a year, and done what you liked. I
cannot say that your success is great, but that is owing to too many
fingers in the pie. Now, I intend to try my way for a year, and if at
the end of it she is not in better trim than now, I'll give up the case,
and hand her over to some one else. That's fair, I think."

"She will not be here a year hence, poor darling, so no one need dread
future responsibility," said Aunt Myra, folding her black gloves as if
all ready for the funeral.

"By Jupiter, Myra, you are enough to damp the ardor of a saint!" cried
Dr. Alec, with a sudden spark in his eyes. "Your croaking will worry
that child out of her wits, for she is an imaginative puss, and will
fret and fancy untold horrors. You have put it into her head that she
has no constitution, and she rather likes the idea. If she had not had a
pretty good one, she _would_ have been 'marked for the tomb' by this
time, at the rate you have been going on with her. I will not have any
interference,--please understand that; so just wash your hands of her,
and let me manage till I want help, then I'll ask for it."

"Hear, hear!" came from the corner where Uncle Mac was apparently wrapt
in slumber.

"You were appointed guardian, so we can do nothing. But I predict that
the girl will be spoilt, utterly spoilt," answered Mrs. Jane, grimly.

"Thank you, sister. I have an idea that if a woman can bring up two boys
as perfectly as you do yours, a man, if he devotes his whole mind to it,
may at least attempt as much with one girl," replied Dr. Alec, with a
humorous look that tickled the others immensely, for it was a well-known
fact in the family that Jane's boys were more indulged than all the
other lads put together.

"_I_ am quite easy, for I really do think that Alec will improve the
child's health; and by the time his year is out, it will be quite soon
enough for her to go to Madame Roccabella's and be finished off," said
Aunt Clara, settling her rings, and thinking, with languid satisfaction,
of the time when she could bring out a pretty and accomplished niece.

"I suppose you will stay here in the old place, unless you think of
marrying, and it's high time you did," put in Mrs. Jane, much nettled at
her brother's last hit.

"No, thank you. Come and have a cigar, Mac," said Dr. Alec, abruptly.

"Don't marry; women enough in the family already," muttered Uncle Mac;
and then the gentlemen hastily fled.

"Aunt Peace would like to see you all, she says," was the message Rose
brought before the ladies could begin again.

"Hectic, hectic!--dear me, dear me!" murmured Aunt Myra, as the shadow
of her gloomy bonnet fell upon Rose, and the stiff tips of a black
glove touched the cheek where the color deepened under so many eyes.

"I am glad these pretty curls are natural; they will be invaluable by
and by," said Aunt Clara, taking an observation with her head on one
side.

"Now that your uncle has come, I no longer expect you to review the
studies of the past year. I trust your time will not be _entirely_
wasted in frivolous sports, however," added Aunt Jane, sailing out of
the room with the air of a martyr.

Aunt Jessie said not a word, but kissed her little niece, with a look of
tender sympathy that made Rose cling to her a minute, and follow her
with grateful eyes as the door closed behind her.

After everybody had gone home, Dr. Alec paced up and down the lower hall
in the twilight for an hour, thinking so intently that sometimes he
frowned, sometimes he smiled, and more than once he stood still in a
brown study. All of a sudden he said, half aloud, as if he had made up
his mind,--

"I might as well begin at once, and give the child something new to
think about, for Myra's dismals and Jane's lectures have made her as
blue as a little indigo bag."

Diving into one of the trunks that stood in a corner, he brought up,
after a brisk rummage, a silken cushion, prettily embroidered, and a
quaint cup of dark carved wood.

"This will do for a start," he said, as he plumped up the cushion and
dusted the cup. "It won't do to begin too energetically, or Rose will be
frightened. I must beguile her gently and pleasantly along till I've
won her confidence, and then she will be ready for any thing."

Just then Phebe came out of the dining-room with a plate of brown bread,
for Rose had been allowed no hot biscuit for tea.

"I'll relieve you of some of that," said Dr. Alec, and, helping himself
to a generous slice, he retired to the study, leaving Phebe to wonder at
his appetite.

She would have wondered still more if she had seen him making that brown
bread into neat little pills, which he packed into an attractive ivory
box, out of which he emptied his own bits of lovage.

"There! if they insist on medicine, I'll order these, and no harm will
be done. I _will_ have my own way, but I'll keep the peace, if possible,
and confess the joke when my experiment has succeeded," he said to
himself, looking very much like a mischievous boy, as he went off with
his innocent prescriptions.

Rose was playing softly on the small organ that stood in the upper hall,
so that Aunt Peace could enjoy it; and all the while he talked with the
old ladies Uncle Alec was listening to the fitful music of the child,
and thinking of another Rose who used to play for him.

As the clock struck eight, he called out,--

"Time for my girl to be abed, else she won't be up early, and I'm full
of jolly plans for to-morrow. Come and see what I have found for you to
begin upon."

Rose ran in and listened with bright, attentive face, while Dr. Alec
said, impressively,--

"In my wanderings over the face of the earth, I have picked up some
excellent remedies, and, as they are rather agreeable ones, I think you
and I will try them. This is an herb-pillow, given to me by a wise old
woman when I was ill in India. It is filled with saffron, poppies, and
other soothing plants; so lay your little head on it to-night, sleep
sweetly without a dream, and wake to-morrow without a pain."

"Shall I really? How nice it smells." And Rose willingly received the
pretty pillow, and stood enjoying its faint, sweet odor, as she listened
to the doctor's next remedy.

"This is the cup I told you of. Its virtue depends, they say, on the
drinker filling it himself; so you must learn to milk. I'll teach you."

"I'm afraid I never can," said Rose; but she surveyed the cup with
favor, for a funny little imp danced on the handle, as if all ready to
take a header into the white sea below.

"Don't you think she ought to have something more strengthening than
milk, Alec? I really shall feel anxious if she does not have a tonic of
some sort," said Aunt Plenty, eying the new remedies suspiciously, for
she had more faith in her old-fashioned doses than all the magic cups
and poppy pillows of the East.

"Well, ma'am, I'm willing to give her a pill, if you think best. It is a
very simple one, and very large quantities may be taken without harm.
You know hasheesh is the extract of hemp? Well, this is a preparation of
corn and rye, much used in old times, and I hope it will be again."

"Dear me, how singular!" said Aunt Plenty, bringing her spectacles to
bear upon the pills, with a face so full of respectful interest that it
was almost too much for Dr. Alec's gravity.

"Take one in the morning, and a good-night to you, my dear," he said,
dismissing his patient with a hearty kiss.

Then, as she vanished, he put both hands into his hair, exclaiming, with
a comical mixture of anxiety and amusement,--

"When I think what I have undertaken, I declare to you, aunt, I feel
like running away and not coming back till Rose is eighteen!"




CHAPTER V.

_A BELT AND A BOX._


WHEN Rose came out of her chamber, cup in hand, next morning, the first
person she saw was Uncle Alec standing on the threshold of the room
opposite, which he appeared to be examining with care. When he heard her
step, he turned about and began to sing,--

"Where are you going, my pretty maid?"

"I'm going a-milking, sir, she said," answered Rose, waving the cup; and
then they finished the verse together in fine style.

Before either spoke, a head, in a nightcap so large and beruffled that
it looked like a cabbage, popped out of a room farther down the hall,
and an astonished voice exclaimed,--

"What in the world are you about so early?"

"Clearing our pipes for the day, ma'am. Look here, auntie, can I have
this room?" said Dr. Alec, making her a sailor's bow.

"Any room you like, except sister's."

"Thanks. And may I go rummaging round in the garrets and glory-holes to
furnish it as I like?"

"My dear boy, you may turn the house upside down if you will only stay
in it."

"That's a handsome offer, I'm sure. I'll stay, ma'am; here's my little
anchor, so you will get more than you want of me this time."

"That's impossible! Put on your jacket, Rose. Don't tire her out with
antics, Alec. Yes, sister, I'm coming!" and the cabbage vanished
suddenly.

The first milking lesson was a droll one; but after several scares and
many vain attempts, Rose at last managed to fill her cup, while Ben held
Clover's tail so that it could not flap, and Dr. Alec kept her from
turning to stare at the new milk-maid, who objected to both these
proceedings very much.

"You look chilly in spite of all this laughing. Take a smart run round
the garden and get up a glow," said the doctor, as they left the barn.

"I'm too old for running, uncle; Miss Power said it was not lady-like
for girls in their teens," answered Rose primly.

"I take the liberty of differing from Madame Prunes and Prisms, and, as
your physician, I _order_ you to run. Off with you!" said Uncle Alec,
with a look and a gesture that made Rose scurry away as fast as she
could go.

Anxious to please him, she raced round the beds till she came back to
the porch where he stood, and, dropping down upon the steps, she sat
panting, with cheeks as rosy as the rigolette on her shoulders.

"Very well done, child; I see you have not lost the use of your limbs
though you _are_ in your teens. That belt is too tight; unfasten it,
then you can take a long breath without panting so."

"It isn't tight, sir; I can breathe perfectly well," began Rose, trying
to compose herself.

Her uncle's only answer was to lift her up and unhook the new belt of
which she was so proud. The moment the clasp was open the belt flew
apart several inches, for it was impossible to restrain the involuntary
sigh of relief that flatly contradicted her words.

"Why, I didn't know it was tight! it didn't feel so a bit. Of course it
would open if I puff like this, but I never do, because I hardly ever
run," explained Rose, rather discomfited by this discovery.

"I see you don't half fill your lungs, and so you can wear this absurd
thing without feeling it. The idea of cramping a tender little waist in
a stiff band of leather and steel just when it ought to be growing,"
said Dr. Alec, surveying the belt with great disfavor as he put the
clasp forward several holes, to Rose's secret dismay, for she was proud
of her slender figure, and daily rejoiced that she wasn't as stout as
Luly Miller, a former schoolmate, who vainly tried to repress her
plumpness.

"It will fall off if it is so loose," she said anxiously, as she stood
watching him pull her precious belt about.

"Not if you keep taking long breaths to hold it on. That is what I want
you to do, and when you have filled this out we will go on enlarging it
till your waist is more like that of Hebe, goddess of health, and less
like that of a fashion-plate,--the ugliest thing imaginable."

"How it does look!" and Rose gave a glance of scorn at the loose belt
hanging round her trim little waist. "It will be lost, and then I shall
feel badly, for it cost ever so much, and is real steel and Russia
leather. Just smell how nice."

"If it is lost I'll give you a better one. A soft silken sash is much
fitter for a pretty child like you than a plated harness like this; and
I've got no end of Italian scarfs and Turkish sashes among my traps. Ah!
that makes you feel better, doesn't it?" and he pinched the cheek that
had suddenly dimpled with a smile.

"It is very silly of me, but I can't help liking to know that"--here she
stopped and blushed and held down her head, ashamed to add, "you think I
am pretty."

Dr. Alec's eyes twinkled, but he said very soberly,--

"Rose, are you vain?"

"I'm afraid I am," answered a very meek voice from behind the veil of
hair that hid the red face.

"That is a sad fault." And he sighed as if grieved at the confession.

"I know it is, and I try not to be; but people praise me, and I can't
help liking it, for I really don't think I am repulsive."

The last word and the funny tone in which it was uttered were too much
for Dr. Alec, and he laughed in spite of himself, to Rose's great
relief.

"I quite agree with you; and in order that you may be still less
repulsive, I want you to grow as fine a girl as Phebe."

"Phebe!" and Rose looked so amazed that her uncle nearly went off again.

"Yes, Phebe; for she has what you need,--health. If you dear little
girls would only learn what real beauty is, and not pinch and starve and
bleach yourselves out so, you'd save an immense deal of time and money
and pain. A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty
for man or woman. Do you understand that, my dear?"

"Yes, sir," answered Rose, much taken down by this comparison with the
girl from the poor-house. It nettled her sadly, and she showed that it
did by saying quickly,--

"I suppose you would like to have me sweep and scrub, and wear an old
brown dress, and go round with my sleeves rolled up, as Phebe does?"

"I should very much, if you could work as well as she does, and show as
strong a pair of arms as she can. I haven't seen a prettier picture for
some time than she made of herself this morning, up to the elbows in
suds, singing like a blackbird while she scrubbed on the back stoop."

"Well, I do think you are the queerest man that ever lived!" was all
Rose could find to say after this display of bad taste.

"I haven't begun to show my oddities yet, so you must make up your mind
to worse shocks than this," he said, with such a whimsical look that she
was glad the sound of a bell prevented her showing more plainly what a
blow her little vanities had already received.

"You will find your box all open up in auntie's parlor, and there you
can amuse her and yourself by rummaging to your heart's content; I've
got to be cruising round all the morning getting my room to rights,"
said Dr. Alec, as they rose from breakfast.

"Can't I help you, uncle?" asked Rose, quite burning to be useful.

"No, thank you. I'm going to borrow Phebe for a while, if Aunt Plenty
can spare her."

"Anybody,--any thing, Alec. You will want me, I know, so I'll give
orders about dinner and be all ready to lend a hand;" and the old lady
bustled away full of interest and good-will.

"Uncle will find that _I_ can do some things that Phebe can't; so now!"
thought Rose, with a toss of the head as she flew to Aunt Peace and the
long-desired box.

Every little girl can easily imagine what an extra good time she had
diving into a sea of treasures and fishing up one pretty thing after
another, till the air was full of the mingled odors of musk and
sandal-wood, the room gay with bright colors, and Rose in a rapture of
delight. She began to forgive Dr. Alec for the oatmeal diet when she saw
a lovely ivory work-box; became resigned to the state of her belt when
she found a pile of rainbow-colored sashes; and when she came to some
distractingly pretty bottles of attar of rose, she felt that they almost
atoned for the great sin of thinking Phebe the finer girl of the two.

Dr. Alec meanwhile had apparently taken Aunt Plenty at her word, and
_was_ turning the house upside down. A general revolution was evidently
going on in the green-room, for the dark damask curtains were seen
bundling away in Phebe's arms; the air-tight stove retiring to the
cellar on Ben's shoulder; and the great bedstead going up garret in a
fragmentary state, escorted by three bearers. Aunt Plenty was
constantly on the trot among her store-rooms, camphor-chests, and
linen-closets, looking as if the new order of things both amazed and
amused her.

Half the peculiar performances of Dr. Alec cannot be revealed; but as
Rose glanced up from her box now and then she caught glimpses of him
striding by, bearing a bamboo chair, a pair of ancient andirons, a queer
Japanese screen, a rug or two, and finally a large bathing-pan upon his
head.

"What a curious room it will be," she said, as she sat resting and
refreshing herself with "Lumps of Delight," all the way from Cairo.

"I fancy _you_ will like it, deary," answered Aunt Peace, looking up
with a smile from some pretty trifle she was making with blue silk and
white muslin.

Rose did not see the smile, for just at that moment her uncle paused at
the door, and she sprang up to dance before him, saying, with a face
full of childish happiness,--

"Look at me! look at me! I'm so splendid I don't know myself. I haven't
put these things on right, I dare say, but I do like them _so_ much!"

"You look as gay as a parrot in your fez and cabaja, and it does my
heart good to see the little black shadow turned into a rainbow," said
Uncle Alec, surveying the bright figure before him with great
approbation.

He did not say it, but he thought she made a much prettier picture than
Phebe at the wash-tub, for she had stuck a purple fez on her blonde
head, tied several brilliant scarfs about her waist, and put on a truly
gorgeous scarlet jacket with a golden sun embroidered on the back, a
silver moon on the front, and stars of all sizes on the sleeves. A pair
of Turkish slippers adorned her feet, and necklaces of amber, coral, and
filigree hung about her neck, while one hand held a smelling-bottle, and
the other the spicy box of oriental sweetmeats.

"I feel like a girl in the 'Arabian Nights,' and expect to find a magic
carpet or a wonderful talisman somewhere. Only I don't see how I ever
_can_ thank you for all these lovely things," she said, stopping her
dance, as if suddenly oppressed with gratitude.

"I'll tell you how,--by leaving off the black clothes, that never should
have been kept so long on such a child, and wearing the gay ones I've
brought. It will do your spirits good, and cheer up this sober old
house. Won't it, auntie?"

"I think you are right, Alec, and it is fortunate that we have not begun
on her spring clothes yet, for Myra thought she ought not to wear any
thing brighter than violet, and she is too pale for that."

"You just let me direct Miss Hemming how to make some of these things.
You will be surprised to see how much I know about piping hems and
gathering arm-holes and shirring biases," began Dr. Alec, patting a pile
of muslin, cloth, and silk with a knowing air.

Aunt Peace and Rose laughed so that he could not display his knowledge
any farther till they stopped, when he said good-naturedly,--

"That will go a great way toward filling out the belt, so laugh away,
Morgiana, and I'll go back to my work, or I never shall be done."

"I couldn't help it, 'shirred biases' were so very funny!" Rose said, as
she turned to her box after the splendid laugh. "But really, auntie,"
she added soberly, "I feel as if I ought not to have so many nice
things. I suppose it wouldn't do to give Phebe some of them? Uncle might
not like it."

"He would not mind; but they are not suitable for Phebe. Some of the
dresses you are done with would be more useful, if they can be made over
to fit her," answered Aunt Peace in the prudent, moderate tone which is
so trying to our feelings when we indulge in little fits of charitable
enthusiasm.

"I'd rather give her new ones, for I think she is a little bit proud and
might not like old things. If she was my sister it would do, because
sisters don't mind, but she isn't, and that makes it bad, you see. I
know how I can manage beautifully; I'll adopt her!" and Rose looked
quite radiant with this new idea.

"I'm afraid you could not do it legally till you are older, but you
might see if she likes the plan, and at any rate you can be very kind to
her, for in one sense we are all sisters, and should help one another."

The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that Rose was fired with a
desire to settle the matter at once, and rushed away to the kitchen just
as she was. Phebe was there, polishing up the antique andirons so busily
that she started when a voice cried out: "Smell that, taste this, and
look at me!"

Phebe sniffed attar of rose, crunched the "Lump of Delight" tucked into
her mouth, and stared with all her eyes at little Morgiana prancing
about the room like a brilliant paroquet.

"My stars, ain't you splendid!" was all she could say, holding up two
dusty hands.

[Illustration: ROSE AND PHEBE.]

"I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs, and I'll show them all to
you, and I'd go halves, only auntie thinks they wouldn't be useful, so I
shall give you something else; and you won't mind, will you, because I
want to adopt you as Arabella was in the story. Won't that be nice?"

"Why, Miss Rose, have you lost your wits?"

No wonder Phebe asked, for Rose talked very fast, and looked so odd in
her new costume, and was so eager she could not stop to explain. Seeing
Phebe's bewilderment, she quieted down and said, with a pretty air of
earnestness,--

"It isn't fair that I should have so much and you so little, and I want
to be as good to you as if you were my sister, for Aunt Peace says we
are all sisters really. I thought if I adopted you as much as I can now,
it would be nicer. Will you let me, please?"

To Rose's great surprise, Phebe sat down on the floor and hid her face
in her apron for a minute without answering a word.

"Oh dear, now she's offended, and I don't know what to do," thought
Rose, much discouraged by this reception of her offer.

"Please, forgive me; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and hope you
won't think--" she faltered presently, feeling that she must undo the
mischief if possible.

But Phebe gave her another surprise, by dropping the apron and showing a
face all smiles, in spite of tears in the eyes, as she put both arms
round Rose and said, with a laugh and sob,--

"I think you are the dearest girl in the world, and I'll let you do any
thing you like with me."

"Then you do like the plan? You didn't cry because I seemed to be kind
of patronizing? I truly didn't mean to be," cried Rose, delighted.

"I guess I do like it! and cried because no one was ever so good to me
before, and I couldn't help it. As for patronizing, you may walk on me
if you want to, and I won't mind," said Phebe, in a burst of gratitude,
for the words, "we are all sisters," went straight to her lonely heart
and nestled there.

"Well, now, we can play I'm a good sprite out of the box, or, what is
better, a fairy godmother come down the chimney, and you are Cinderella,
and must say what you want," said Rose, trying to put the question
delicately.

Phebe understood that, for she had a good deal of natural refinement,
though she did come from the poor-house.

"I don't feel as if I wanted any thing now, Miss Rose, but to find some
way of thanking you for all you've done," she said, rubbing off a tear
that went rolling down the bridge of her nose in the most unromantic
way.

"Why, I haven't done any thing but given you a bit of candy! Here, have
some more, and eat 'em while you work, and think what I _can_ do. I must
go and clear up, so good-by, and don't forget I've adopted you."

"You've given me sweeter things than candy, and I'm not likely to forget
it." And carefully wiping off the brick-dust, Phebe pressed the little
hand Rose offered warmly in both her hard ones, while the black eyes
followed the departing visitor with a grateful look that made them very
soft and bright.




CHAPTER VI.

_UNCLE ALEC'S ROOM._


SOON after dinner, and before she had got acquainted with half her new
possessions, Dr. Alec proposed a drive, to carry round the first
instalment of gifts to the aunts and cousins. Rose was quite ready to
go, being anxious to try a certain soft burnous from the box, which not
only possessed a most engaging little hood, but had funny tassels
bobbing in all directions.

The big carriage was full of parcels, and even Ben's seat was loaded
with Indian war-clubs, a Chinese kite of immense size, and a pair of
polished ox-horns from Africa. Uncle Alec, very blue as to his clothes,
and very brown as to his face, sat bolt upright, surveying well-known
places with interest, while Rose, feeling unusually elegant and
comfortable, leaned back folded in her soft mantle, and played she was
an Eastern princess making a royal progress among her subjects.

At three of the places their calls were brief, for Aunt Myra's catarrh
was unusually bad; Aunt Clara had a room full of company; and Aunt Jane
showed such a tendency to discuss the population, productions, and
politics of Europe, Asia, and Africa, that even Dr. Alec was dismayed,
and got away as soon as possible.

"Now we will have a good time! I do hope the boys will be at home," said
Rose, with a sigh of relief, as they wound yet higher up the hill to
Aunt Jessie's.

"I left this for the last call, so that we might find the lads just in
from school. Yes, there is Jamie on the gate watching for us; now you'll
see the Clan gather; they are always swarming about together."

The instant Jamie saw the approaching guests he gave a shrill whistle,
which was answered by echoes from meadow, house, and barn, as the
cousins came running from all directions, shouting, "Hooray for Uncle
Alec!" They went at the carriage like highwaymen, robbed it of every
parcel, took the occupants prisoners, and marched them into the house
with great exultation.

"Little Mum! little Mum! here they are with lots of goodies! Come down
and see the fun right away! quick!" bawled Will and Geordie amidst a
general ripping off of papers and a reckless cutting of strings that
soon turned the tidy room into a chaos.

Down came Aunt Jessie with her pretty cap half on, but such a beaming
face below it that one rather thought the fly-away head-gear an
improvement than otherwise. She had hardly time to greet Rose and the
doctor before the boys were about her, each clamoring for her to see his
gift and rejoice over it with him, for "little Mum" went halves in every
thing. The great horns skirmished about her as if to toss her to the
ceiling; the war-clubs hurtled over her head as if to annihilate her; an
amazing medley from the four quarters of the globe filled her lap, and
seven excited boys all talked to her at once.

But she liked it; oh dear, yes! and sat smiling, admiring, and
explaining, quite untroubled by the din, which made Rose cover up her
ears and Dr. Alec threaten instant flight if the riot was not quelled.
That threat produced a lull, and while the uncle received thanks in one
corner, the aunt had some little confidences made to her in the other.

"Well, dear, and how are things going with you now? Better, I hope, than
they were a week ago."

"Aunt Jessie, I think I'm going to be very happy, now uncle has come. He
does the queerest things, but he is _so_ good to me I can't help loving
him;" and, nestling closer to little Mum, Rose told all that had
happened, ending with a rapturous account of the splendid box.

"I am very glad, dear. But, Rose, I must warn you of one thing; don't
let uncle spoil you."

"But I like to be spoilt, auntie."

"I don't doubt it; but if you turn out badly when the year is over he
will be blamed, and his experiment prove a failure. That would be a
pity, wouldn't it? when he wants to do so much for you, and can do it if
his kind heart does not get in the way of his good judgment."

"I never thought of that, and I'll try not to be spoilt. But how _can_ I
help it?" asked Rose anxiously.

"By not complaining of the wholesome things he wants you to do; by
giving him cheerful obedience as well as love; and even making some
small sacrifices for his sake."

"I will, I truly will! and when I get in a worry about things may I come
to you? Uncle told me to, and I feel as if I shouldn't be afraid."

"You may, darling; this is the place where little troubles are best
cured, and this is what mothers are for, I fancy;" and Aunt Jessie drew
the curly head to her shoulder with a tender look that proved how well
she knew what medicine the child most needed.

It was so sweet and comfortable that Rose sat still enjoying it till a
little voice said,--

"Mamma, don't you think Pokey would like some of my shells? Rose gave
Phebe some of her nice things, and it was very good of her. Can I?"

"Who is Pokey?" asked Rose, popping up her head, attracted by the odd
name.

"My dolly; do you want to see her?" asked Jamie, who had been much
impressed by the tale of adoption he had overheard.

"Yes; I'm fond of dollies, only don't tell the boys, or they will laugh
at me."

"They don't laugh at me, and they play with my dolly a great deal; but
she likes me best;" and Jamie ran away to produce his pet.

"I brought my old doll, but I keep her hidden because I am too big to
play with her, and yet I can't bear to throw her away, I'm so fond of
her," said Rose, continuing her confidences in a whisper.

"You can come and play with Jamie's whenever you like, for we believe in
dollies up here," began Aunt Jessie, smiling to herself as if something
amused her.

Just then Jamie came back, and Rose understood the smile, for his dolly
proved to be a pretty four-year-old little girl, who trotted in as fast
as her fat legs would carry her, and, making straight for the shells,
scrambled up an armful, saying, with a laugh that showed her little
white teeth,--

"All for Dimmy and me, for Dimmy and me!"

[Illustration: JAMIE AND HIS DOLLY.]

"That's my dolly; isn't she a nice one?" asked Jamie, proudly surveying
his pet with his hands behind him and his short legs rather far
apart,--a manly attitude copied from his brothers.

"She is a dear dolly. But why call her Pokey?" asked Rose, charmed with
the new plaything.

"She is such an inquisitive little body she is always poking that mite
of a nose into every thing; and as Paul Pry did not suit, the boys fell
to calling her Pokey. Not a pretty name, but very expressive."

It certainly was, for, having examined the shells, the busy tot laid
hold of every thing she could find, and continued her researches till
Archie caught her sucking his carved ivory chessmen to see if they were
not barley-sugar. Rice-paper pictures were also discovered crumpled up
in her tiny pocket, and she nearly smashed Will's ostrich egg by trying
to sit upon it.

"Here, Jim, take her away; she's worse than the puppies, and we can't
have her round," commanded the elder brother, picking her up and handing
her over to the little fellow, who received her with open arms and the
warning remark,--

"You'd better mind what you do, for I'm going to 'dopt Pokey like Rose
did Phebe, and then you'll have to be very good to her, you big
fellows."

"'Dopt away, baby, and I'll give you a cage to keep her in, or you won't
have her long, for she is getting worse than a monkey;" and Archie went
back to his mates, while Aunt Jessie, foreseeing a crisis, proposed that
Jamie should take his dolly home, as she was borrowed, and it was time
her visit ended.

"_My_ dolly is better than yours, isn't she? 'cause she can walk and
talk and sing and dance, and yours can't do any thing, can she?" asked
Jamie with pride, as he regarded his Pokey, who just then had been moved
to execute a funny little jig and warble the well-known couplet,--

    "'Puss-tat, puss-tat, where you been?'
     'I been Lunnin, to saw a Tween.'"

After which superb display she retired, escorted by Jamie, both making
a fearful din blowing on conch shells.

"We must tear ourselves away, Rose, because I want to get you home
before sunset. Will you come for a drive, Jessie?" said Dr. Alec, as the
music died away in the distance.

"No, thank you; but I see the boys want a scamper, so, if you don't
mind, they may escort you home, but not go in. That is only allowed on
holidays."

The words were hardly out of Aunt Jessie's mouth when Archie said, in a
tone of command,--

"Pass the word, lads. Boot and saddle, and be quick about it."

"All right!" And in a moment not a vestige of boy remained but the
litter on the floor.

The cavalcade went down the hill at a pace that made Rose cling to her
uncle's arm, for the fat old horses got excited by the antics of the
ponies careering all about them, and went as fast as they could pelt,
with the gay dog-cart rattling in front, for Archie and Charlie scorned
shelties since this magnificent equipage had been set up. Ben enjoyed
the fun, and the lads cut up capers till Rose declared that "circus" was
the proper name for them after all.

When they reached the house they dismounted, and stood, three on each
side the steps, in martial attitudes, while her ladyship was handed out
with great elegance by Uncle Alec. Then the clan saluted, mounted at
word of command, and with a wild whoop tore down the avenue in what they
considered the true Arab style.

"That was splendid, now it is safely ended," said Rose, skipping up the
steps with her head over her shoulder to watch the dear tassels bob
about.

"I shall get you a pony as soon as you are a little stronger," said Dr.
Alec, watching her with a smile.

"Oh, I couldn't ride one of those horrid, frisky little beasts! They
roll their eyes and bounce about so, I should die of fright," cried
Rose, clasping her hands tragically.

"Are you a coward?"

"About horses I am."

"Never mind, then; come and see my new room;" and he led the way
upstairs without another word.

As Rose followed she remembered her promise to Aunt Jessie, and was
sorry she had objected so decidedly. She was a great deal more sorry
five minutes later, and well she might be.

"Now take a good look, and tell me what you think of it," said Dr. Alec,
opening the door and letting her enter before him, while Phebe was seen
whisking down the backstairs with a dust-pan.

Rose walked to the middle of the room, stood still, and gazed about her
with eyes that brightened as they looked, for all was changed.

This chamber had been built out over the library to suit some fancy, and
had been unused for years, except at Christmas times, when the old house
overflowed. It had three windows,--one to the east, that overlooked the
bay; one to the south, where the horse-chestnuts waved their green fans;
and one to the west, toward the hills and the evening sky. A ruddy
sunset burned there now, filling the room with an enchanted glow; the
soft murmur of the sea was heard, and a robin chirped "Good night!"
among the budding trees.

Rose saw and heard these things first, and felt their beauty with a
child's quick instinct; then her eye took in the altered aspect of the
room, once so shrouded, still and solitary, now so full of light and
warmth and simple luxury.

India matting covered the floor, with a gay rug here and there; the
antique andirons shone on the wide hearth, where a cheery blaze
dispelled the dampness of the long-closed room. Bamboo lounges and
chairs stood about, and quaint little tables in cosey corners; one
bearing a pretty basket, one a desk, and on a third lay several
familiar-looking books. In a recess stood a narrow white bed, with a
lovely Madonna hanging over it. The Japanese screen half folded back
showed a delicate toilet-service of blue and white set forth on a marble
slab, and near by was the great bath-pan, with Turkish towels and a
sponge as big as Rose's head.

"Uncle must love cold water like a duck," she thought, with a shiver.

Then her eye went on to the tall cabinet, where a half-open door
revealed a tempting array of the drawers, shelves, and "cubby holes,"
which so delight the hearts of children.

"What a grand place for my new things," she thought, wondering what her
uncle kept in that cedar retreat.

"Oh me, what a sweet toilet-table!" was her next mental exclamation, as
she approached this inviting spot.

A round old-fashioned mirror hung over it, with a gilt eagle a-top,
holding in his beak the knot of blue ribbon that tied up a curtain of
muslin falling on either side of the table, where appeared little
ivory-handled brushes, two slender silver candlesticks, a porcelain
match-box, several pretty trays for small matters, and, most imposing of
all, a plump blue silk cushion, coquettishly trimmed with lace, and pink
rose-buds at the corners.

That cushion rather astonished Rose; in fact, the whole table did, and
she was just thinking, with a sly smile,--

"Uncle is a dandy, but I never should have guessed it," when he opened
the door of a large closet, saying, with a careless wave of the hand,--

"Men like plenty of room for their rattle-traps; don't you think that
ought to satisfy me?"

Rose peeped in and gave a start, though all she saw was what one usually
finds in closets,--clothes and boots, boxes and bags. Ah! but you see
these clothes were small black and white frocks; the row of little boots
that stood below had never been on Dr. Alec's feet; the green bandbox
had a gray veil straying out of it, and,--yes! the bag hanging on the
door was certainly her own piece-bag, with a hole in one corner. She
gave a quick look round the room and understood now why it had seemed
too dainty for a man, why _her_ Testament and Prayer-book were on the
table by the bed, and what those rose-buds meant on the blue cushion. It
came upon her in one delicious burst that this little paradise was all
for her, and, not knowing how else to express her gratitude, she caught
Dr. Alec round the neck, saying impetuously,--

"O uncle, you are _too_ good to me! I'll do any thing you ask me; ride
wild horses and take freezing baths and eat bad-tasting messes, and let
my clothes hang on me, to show how much I thank you for this dear,
sweet, lovely room!"

"You like it, then? But why do you think it is yours, my lass?" asked
Dr. Alec, as he sat down looking well pleased, and drew his excited
little niece to his knee.

"I don't _think_, I _know_ it is for me; I see it in your face, and I
feel as if I didn't half deserve it. Aunt Jessie said you would spoil
me, and I must not let you. I'm afraid this looks like it, and
perhaps,--oh me!--perhaps I ought not to have this beautiful room after
all!" and Rose tried to look as if she could be heroic enough to give it
up if it was best.

"I owe Mrs. Jessie one for that," said Dr. Alec, trying to frown, though
in his secret soul he felt that she was quite right. Then he smiled that
cordial smile, which was like sunshine on his brown face, as he said,--

"This is part of the cure, Rose, and I put you here that you might take
my three great remedies in the best and easiest way. Plenty of sun,
fresh air, and cold water; also cheerful surroundings and some work; for
Phebe is to show you how to take care of this room, and be your little
maid as well as friend and teacher. Does that sound hard and
disagreeable to you, dear?"

"No, sir; very, very pleasant, and I'll do my best to be a good patient.
But I really don't think any one _could_ be sick in this delightful
room," she said, with a long sigh of happiness as her eye went from one
pleasant object to another.

"Then you like my sort of medicine better than Aunt Myra's, and don't
want to throw it out of the window, hey?"




CHAPTER VII.

_A TRIP TO CHINA._


"COME, little girl, I've got another dose for you. I fancy you won't
take it as well as you did the last, but you will like it better after a
while," said Dr. Alec, about a week after the grand surprise.

Rose was sitting in her pretty room, where she would gladly have spent
all her time if it had been allowed; but she looked up with a smile, for
she had ceased to fear her uncle's remedies, and was always ready to try
a new one. The last had been a set of light gardening tools, with which
she had helped him put the flower-beds in order, learning all sorts of
new and pleasant things about the plants as she worked, for, though she
had studied botany at school, it seemed very dry stuff compared with
Uncle Alec's lively lesson.

"What is it now?" she asked, shutting her work-box without a murmur.

"Salt-water."

"How must I take it?"

"Put on the new suit Miss Hemming sent home yesterday, and come down to
the beach; then I'll show you."

"Yes, sir," answered Rose obediently, adding to herself, with a shiver,
as he went off: "It is too early for bathing, so I _know_ it is
something to do with a dreadful boat."

Putting on the new suit of blue flannel, prettily trimmed with white,
and the little sailor-hat with long streamers, diverted her mind from
the approaching trial, till a shrill whistle reminded her that her uncle
was waiting. Away she ran through the garden, down the sandy path, out
upon the strip of beach that belonged to the house, and here she found
Dr. Alec busy with a slender red and white boat that lay rocking on the
rising tide.

"That is a dear little boat; and 'Bonnie Belle' is a pretty name," she
said, trying not to show how nervous she felt.

"It is for you; so sit in the stern and learn to steer, till you are
ready to learn to row."

"Do all boats wiggle about in that way?" she asked, lingering as if to
tie her hat more firmly.

"Oh, yes, pitch about like nut-shells when the sea is a bit rough,"
answered her sailor uncle, never guessing her secret woe.

"Is it rough to-day?"

"Not very; it looks a trifle squally to the eastward, but we are all
right till the wind changes. Come."

"Can you swim, uncle?" asked Rose, clutching at his arm as he took her
hand.

"Like a fish. Now then."

[Illustration: "SUPPOSE WE GO TO CHINA."--Page 74]

"Oh, please hold me _very_ tight till I get there! Why _do_ you have the
stern so far away?" and, stifling several squeaks of alarm in her
passage, Rose crept to the distant seat, and sat there holding on with
both hands and looking as if she expected every wave to bring a sudden
shipwreck.

Uncle Alec took no notice of her fear, but patiently instructed her in
the art of steering, till she was so absorbed in remembering which was
starboard and which larboard, that she forgot to say "Ow!" every time a
big wave slapped against the boat.

"Now where shall we go?" she asked, as the wind blew freshly in her
face, and a few long, swift strokes sent them half across the little
bay.

"Suppose we go to China?"

"Isn't that rather a long voyage?"

"Not as I go. Steer round the Point into the harbor, and I'll give you a
glimpse of China in twenty minutes or so."

"I should like that!" and Rose sat wondering what he meant, while she
enjoyed the new sights all about her.

Behind them the green Aunt-hill sloped gently upward to the grove at the
top, and all along the seaward side stood familiar houses, stately,
cosey, or picturesque. As they rounded the Point, the great bay opened
before them full of shipping, and the city lay beyond, its spires rising
above the tall masts with their gay streamers.

"Are we going there?" she asked, for she had never seen this aspect of
the rich and busy old city before.

"Yes. Uncle Mac has a ship just in from Hong Kong, and I thought you
would like to go and see it."

"Oh, I should! I love dearly to go poking about in the warehouses with
Uncle Mac; every thing is so curious and new to me; and I'm specially
interested in China because you have been there."

"I'll show you two genuine Chinamen who have just arrived. You will like
to welcome Whang Lo and Fun See, I'm sure."

"Don't ask me to speak to them, uncle; I shall be sure to laugh at the
odd names and the pig-tails and the slanting eyes. Please let me just
trot round after you; I like that best."

"Very well; now steer toward the wharf where the big ship with the queer
flag is. That's the 'Rajah,' and we will go aboard if we can."

In among the ships they went, by the wharves where the water was green
and still, and queer barnacles grew on the slippery piles. Odd smells
saluted her nose, and odd sights met her eyes, but Rose liked it all,
and played she was really landing in Hong Kong when they glided up to
the steps in the shadow of the tall "Rajah." Boxes and bales were rising
out of the hold and being carried into the warehouse by stout porters,
who tugged and bawled and clattered about with small trucks, or worked
cranes with iron claws that came down and clutched heavy weights,
whisking them aloft to where wide doors like mouths swallowed them up.

Dr. Alec took her aboard the ship, and she had the satisfaction of
poking her inquisitive little nose into every available corner, at the
risk of being crushed, lost, or drowned.

"Well, child, how would you like to take a voyage round the world with
me in a jolly old craft like this?" asked her uncle, as they rested a
minute in the captain's cabin.

"I should like to see the world, but not in such a small, untidy, smelly
place as this. We would go in a yacht all clean and comfortable; Charlie
says that is the proper way," answered Rose, surveying the close
quarters with little favor.

"You are not a true Campbell if you don't like the smell of tar and
salt-water, nor Charlie either, with his luxurious yacht. Now come
ashore and chin-chin with the Celestials."

After a delightful progress through the great warehouse, peeping and
picking as they went, they found Uncle Mac and the yellow gentlemen in
his private room, where samples, gifts, curiosities, and newly arrived
treasures of all sorts were piled up in pleasing pro-fusion and
con-fusion.

As soon as possible Rose retired to a corner, with a porcelain god on
one side, a green dragon on the other, and, what was still more
embarrassing, Fun See sat on a tea-chest in front, and stared at her
with his beady black eyes till she did not know where to look.

Mr. Whang Lo was an elderly gentleman in American costume, with his
pig-tail neatly wound round his head. He spoke English, and was talking
busily with Uncle Mac in the most commonplace way,--so Rose considered
_him_ a failure. But Fun See was delightfully Chinese from his junk-like
shoes to the button on his pagoda hat; for he had got himself up in
style, and was a mass of silk jackets and slouchy trousers. He was short
and fat, and waddled comically; his eyes were very "slanting," as Rose
said; his queue was long, so were his nails; his yellow face was plump
and shiny, and he was altogether a highly satisfactory Chinaman.

Uncle Alec told her that Fun See had come out to be educated, and could
only speak a little pigeon English; so she must be kind to the poor
fellow, for he was only a lad, though he looked nearly as old as Mr.
Whang Lo. Rose said she would be kind; but had not the least idea how to
entertain the queer guest, who looked as if he had walked out of one of
the rice-paper landscapes on the wall, and sat nodding at her so like a
toy Mandarin that she could hardly keep sober.

In the midst of her polite perplexity, Uncle Mac saw the two young
people gazing wistfully at one another, and seemed to enjoy the joke of
this making acquaintance under difficulties. Taking a box from his
table, he gave it to Fun See with an order that seemed to please him
very much.

Descending from his perch, he fell to unpacking it with great neatness
and despatch, while Rose watched him, wondering what was going to
happen. Presently, out from the wrappings came a teapot, which caused
her to clasp her hands with delight, for it was made in the likeness of
a plump little Chinaman. His hat was the cover, his queue the handle,
and his pipe the nose. It stood upon feet in shoes turned up at the
toes, and the smile on the fat, sleepy face was so like that on Fun's
when he displayed the teapot, that Rose couldn't help laughing, which
pleased him much.

[Illustration: FUN SIGNIFIED IN PANTOMIME THAT THEY WERE HERS.--Page
79.]

Two pretty cups with covers, and a fine scarlet tray, completed the
set, and made one long to have a "dish of tea," even in Chinese style,
without cream or sugar.

When he had arranged them on a little table before her, Fun signified in
pantomime that they were hers, from her uncle. She returned her thanks
in the same way, whereupon he returned to his tea-chest, and, having no
other means of communication, they sat smiling and nodding at one
another in an absurd sort of way till a new idea seemed to strike Fun.
Tumbling off his seat, he waddled away as fast as his petticoats
permitted, leaving Rose hoping that he had not gone to get a roasted
rat, a stewed puppy, or any other foreign mess which civility would
oblige her to eat.

While she waited for her funny new friend, she improved her mind in a
way that would have charmed Aunt Jane. The gentlemen were talking over
all sorts of things, and she listened attentively, storing up much of
what she heard, for she had an excellent memory, and longed to
distinguish herself by being able to produce some useful information
when reproached with her ignorance.

She was just trying to impress upon her mind that Amoy was two hundred
and eighty miles from Hong Kong, when Fun came scuffling back, bearing
what she thought was a small sword, till he unfurled an immense fan, and
presented it with a string of Chinese compliments, the meaning of which
would have amused her even more than the sound if she could have
understood it.

She had never seen such an astonishing fan, and at once became absorbed
in examining it. Of course, there was no perspective whatever, which
only gave it a peculiar charm to Rose, for in one place a lovely lady,
with blue knitting-needles in her hair, sat directly upon the spire of a
stately pagoda. In another charming view a brook appeared to flow in at
the front door of a stout gentleman's house, and out at his chimney. In
a third a zigzag wall went up into the sky like a flash of lightning,
and a bird with two tails was apparently brooding over a fisherman whose
boat was just going aground upon the moon.

It was altogether a fascinating thing, and she would have sat wafting it
to and fro all the afternoon, to Fun's great satisfaction, if Dr. Alec's
attention had not suddenly been called to her by a breeze from the big
fan that blew his hair into his eyes, and reminded him that they must
go. So the pretty china was repacked, Rose furled her fan, and with
several parcels of choice teas for the old ladies stowed away in Dr.
Alec's pockets, they took their leave, after Fun had saluted them with
the "three bendings and the nine knockings," as they salute the Emperor,
or "Son of Heaven," at home.

"I feel as if I had really been to China, and I'm sure I look so," said
Rose, as they glided out of the shadow of the "Rajah."

She certainly did, for Mr. Whang Lo had given her a Chinese umbrella;
Uncle Alec had got some lanterns to light up her balcony; the great fan
lay in her lap, and the tea-set reposed at her feet.

"This is not a bad way to study geography, is it?" asked her uncle, who
had observed her attention to the talk.

"It is a very pleasant way, and I really think I have learned more
about China to-day than in all the lessons I had at school, though I
used to rattle off the answers as fast as I could go. No one explained
any thing to us, so all I remember is that tea and silk come from there,
and the women have little bits of feet. I saw Fun looking at mine, and
he must have thought them perfectly immense," answered Rose, surveying
her stout boots with sudden contempt.

"We will have out the maps and the globe, and I'll show you some of my
journeys, telling stories as we go. That will be next best to doing it
actually."

"You are so fond of travelling, I should think it would be very dull for
you here, uncle. Do you know, Aunt Plenty says she is sure you will be
off in a year or two."

"Very likely."

"Oh me! what _shall_ I do then?" sighed Rose, in a tone of despair that
made Uncle Alec's face brighten with a look of genuine pleasure as he
said significantly,--

"Next time I go I shall take my little anchor with me. How will that
suit?"

"Really, uncle?"

"Really, niece."

Rose gave a little bounce of rapture which caused the boat to "wiggle"
in a way that speedily quieted her down. But she sat beaming joyfully
and trying to think which of some hundred questions she would ask first,
when Dr. Alec said, pointing to a boat that was coming up behind them in
great style,--

"How well those fellows row! Look at them, and take notes for your own
use by and by."

The "Stormy Petrel" was manned by half a dozen jaunty-looking sailors,
who made a fine display of blue shirts and shiny hats, with stars and
anchors in every direction.

"How beautifully they go, and they are only boys. Why, I do believe they
are _our_ boys! Yes, I see Charlie laughing over his shoulder. Row,
uncle, row! oh, please do, and not let them catch up with us!" cried
Rose, in such a state of excitement that the new umbrella nearly went
overboard.

"All right, here we go!" and away they did go with a long steady sweep
of the oars that carried the "Bonnie Belle" through the water with a
rush.

The lads pulled their prettiest, but Dr. Alec would have reached the
Point first, if Rose, in her flurry, had not retarded him by jerking the
rudder ropes in a most unseamanlike way, and just as she got right again
her hat blew off. That put an end to the race, and while they were still
fishing for the hat the other boat came alongside, with all the oars in
the air, and the jolly young tars ready for a frolic.

"Did you catch a crab, uncle?"

"No, a blue-fish," he answered, as the dripping hat was landed on a seat
to dry.

"What have you been doing?"

"Seeing Fun."

"Good for you, Rose! I know what you mean. We are going to have him up
to show us how to fly the big kite, for we can't get the hang of it.
Isn't he great fun, though?"

"No, little Fun."

"Come, stop joking, and show us what you've got."

"You'd better hoist that fan for a sail."

"Lend Dandy your umbrella; he hates to burn his pretty nose."

"I say, uncle, are you going to have a Feast of Lanterns?"

"No, I'm going to have a feast of bread and butter, for it's tea-time.
If that black cloud doesn't lie, we shall have a gust before long, so
you had better get home as soon as you can, or your mother will be
anxious, Archie."

"Ay, ay, skipper. Good-night, Rose; come out often, and we'll teach you
all there is to know about rowing," was Charlie's modest invitation.

Then the boats parted company, and across the water from the "Petrel's"
crew came a verse from one of the Nonsense Songs in which the boys
delighted.

    "Oh, Timballoo! how happy we are,
     We live in a sieve and a crockery jar!
     And all night long, in the starlight pale,
     We sail away, with a pea-green sail,
     And whistle and warble a moony song
     To the echoing sound of a coppery gong.
       Far and few, far and few
     Are the lands where the Jumblies live;
     Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,
       And they went to sea in a sieve."




CHAPTER VIII.

_AND WHAT CAME OF IT._


"UNCLE, could you lend me a ninepence? I'll return it as soon as I get
my pocket-money," said Rose, coming into the library in a great hurry
that evening.

"I think I could, and I won't charge any interest for it, so you need
not be in any hurry to repay me. Come back here and help me settle these
books if you have nothing pleasanter to do," answered Dr. Alec, handing
out the money with that readiness which is so delightful when we ask
small loans.

"I'll come in a minute; I've been longing to fix my books, but didn't
dare to touch them, because you always shake your head when I read."

"I shall shake my head when you write, if you don't do it better than
you did in making out this catalogue."

"I know it's bad, but I was in a hurry when I did it, and I am in one
now." And away went Rose, glad to escape a lecture.

But she got it when she came back, for Uncle Alec was still knitting his
brows over the list of books, and sternly demanded, pointing to a
tipsy-looking title staggering down the page,--

"Is that meant for 'Pulverized Bones,' ma'am?"

"No, sir; it's 'Paradise Lost.'"

"Well, I'm glad to know it, for I began to think you were planning to
study surgery or farming. And what is this, if you please? 'Babies'
Aprons' is all _I_ can make of it."

Rose looked hard at the scrawl, and presently announced, with an air of
superior wisdom,--

"Oh, that's 'Bacon's Essays.'"

"Miss Power did not teach any thing so old-fashioned as writing, I see.
Now look at this little memorandum Aunt Plenty gave me, and see what a
handsome plain hand that is. She went to a dame-school and learnt a few
useful things well; that is better than a smattering of half a dozen
so-called higher branches, I take the liberty of thinking."

"Well, I'm sure I was considered a bright girl at school, and learned
every thing I was taught. Luly and me were the first in all our classes,
and 'specially praised for our French and music and those sort of
things," said Rose, rather offended at Uncle Alec's criticism.

"I dare say; but if your French grammar was no better than your English,
I think the praise was not deserved, my dear."

"Why, uncle, we _did_ study English grammar, and I could parse
beautifully. Miss Power used to have us up to show off when people came.
I don't see but I talk as right as most girls."

"I dare say you do, but we are all too careless about our English. Now,
think a minute and tell me if these expressions are correct,--'Luly and
me,' 'those sort of things,' and 'as right as most girls.'"

Rose pulled her pet curl and put up her lip, but had to own that she was
wrong, and said meekly, after a pause which threatened to be sulky,--

"I suppose I should have said 'Luly and I,' in that case, and 'that sort
of things' and 'rightly,' though 'correctly' would have been a better
word, I guess."

"Thank you; and if you will kindly drop 'I guess,' I shall like my
little Yankee all the better. Now, see here, Rosy, I don't pretend to
set myself up for a model in any thing, and you may come down on my
grammar, manners, or morals as often as you think I'm wrong, and I'll
thank you. I've been knocking about the world for years, and have got
careless, but I want my girl to be what _I_ call well educated, even if
she studies nothing but the 'three Rs' for a year to come. Let us be
thorough, no matter how slowly we go."

He spoke so earnestly and looked so sorry to have ruffled her that Rose
went and sat on the arm of his chair, saying, with a pretty air of
penitence,--

"I'm sorry I was cross, uncle, when I ought to thank you for taking so
much interest in me. I guess,--no, I think you are right about being
thorough, for I used to understand a great deal better when papa taught
me a few lessons than when Miss Power hurried me through so many. I
declare my head used to be such a jumble of French and German, history
and arithmetic, grammar and music, I used to feel sometimes as if it
would split. I'm sure I don't wonder it ached." And she held on to it as
if the mere memory of the "jumble" made it swim.

"Yet that is considered an excellent school, I find, and I dare say it
would be if the benighted lady did not think it necessary to cram her
pupils like Thanksgiving turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural
and wholesome way. It is the fault with most American schools, and the
poor little heads will go on aching till we learn better."

This was one of Dr. Alec's hobbies, and Rose was afraid he was off for a
gallop, but he reined himself in and gave her thoughts a new turn by
saying suddenly, as he pulled out a fat pocket-book,--

"Uncle Mac has put all your affairs into my hands now, and here is your
month's pocket-money. You keep your own little accounts, I suppose?"

"Thank you. Yes, Uncle Mac gave me an account-book when I went to
school, and I used to put down my expenses, but I couldn't make them go
very well, for figures are the one thing I am not at all clever about,"
said Rose, rummaging in her desk for a dilapidated little book, which
she was ashamed to show when she found it.

"Well, as figures are rather important things to most of us, and you may
have a good many accounts to keep some day, wouldn't it be wise to begin
at once and learn to manage your pennies before the pounds come to
perplex you?"

"I thought you would do all that fussy part and take care of the pounds,
as you call them. Need I worry about it? I do hate sums so!"

"I shall take care of things till you are of age, but I mean that you
shall know how your property is managed and do as much of it as you can
by and by; then you won't be dependent on the honesty of other people."

"Gracious me! as if I wouldn't trust you with millions of billions if I
had them," cried Rose, scandalized at the mere suggestion.

"Ah, but I might be tempted; guardians are sometimes; so you'd better
keep your eye on me, and in order to do that you must learn all about
these affairs," answered Dr. Alec, as he made an entry in his own very
neat account-book.

Rose peeped over his shoulder at it, and then turned to the arithmetical
puzzle in her hand with a sigh of despair.

"Uncle, when you add up your expenses do you ever find you have got more
money than you had in the beginning?"

"No; I usually find that I have a good deal less than I had in the
beginning. Are you troubled in the peculiar way you mention?"

"Yes; it is very curious, but I never _can_ make things come out
square."

"Perhaps I can help you," began Uncle Alec, in the most respectful tone.

"I think you had better, for if I have got to keep accounts I may as
well begin in the right way. But please don't laugh! I know I'm very
stupid, and my book is a disgrace, but I never _could_ get it straight."
And with great trepidation Rose gave up her funny little accounts.

It really _was_ good in Dr. Alec not to laugh, and Rose felt deeply
grateful when he said, in a mildly suggestive tone,--

"The dollars and cents seem to be rather mixed; perhaps if I just
straightened them out a bit we should find things all right."

"Please do, and then show me on a fresh leaf how to make mine look nice
and ship-shape as yours do."

As Rose stood by him watching the ease with which he quickly brought
order out of chaos, she privately resolved to hunt up her old arithmetic
and perfect herself in the first four rules, with a good tug at
fractions, before she read any more fairy tales.

"Am I a rich girl, uncle?" she asked suddenly, as he was copying a
column of figures.

"Rather a poor one, I should say, since you had to borrow a ninepence."

"That was your fault, because you forgot my pocket-money. But, really,
shall I be rich by and by?"

"I am afraid you will."

"Why afraid, uncle?"

"Too much money is a bad thing."

"But I can give it away, you know; that is always the pleasantest part
of having it, _I_ think."

"I'm glad you feel so, for you _can_ do much good with your fortune if
you know how to use it well."

"You shall teach me, and when I am a woman we will set up a school where
nothing but the three Rs shall be taught, and all the children live on
oatmeal, and the girls have waists a yard round," said Rose, with a
sudden saucy smile dimpling her cheeks.

"You are an impertinent little baggage, to turn on me in that way right
in the midst of my first attempt at teaching. Never mind, I'll have an
extra bitter dose for you next time, miss."

"I knew you wanted to laugh, so I gave you a chance. Now I will be good,
master, and do my lesson nicely."

So Dr. Alec had his laugh, and then Rose sat down and took a lesson in
accounts which she never forgot.

"Now come and read aloud to me; my eyes are tired, and it is pleasant to
sit here by the fire while the rain pours outside and Aunt Jane lectures
upstairs," said Uncle Alec, when last month's accounts had been put in
good order and a fresh page neatly begun.

Rose liked to read aloud, and gladly gave him the chapter in "Nicholas
Nickleby" where the Miss Kenwigses take their French lesson. She did her
very best, feeling that she was being criticised, and hoping that she
might not be found wanting in this as in other things.

"Shall I go on, sir?" she asked very meekly when the chapter ended.

"If you are not tired, dear. It is a pleasure to hear you, for you read
remarkably well," was the answer that filled her heart with pride and
pleasure.

"Do you really think so, uncle? I'm so glad! papa taught me, and I read
for hours to him, but I thought, perhaps, he liked it because he was
fond of me."

"So am I; but you really do read unusually well, and I am very glad of
it, for it is a rare accomplishment, and one I value highly. Come here
in this cosey, low chair; the light is better, and I can pull these
curls if you go too fast. I see you are going to be a great comfort as
well as a great credit to your old uncle, Rosy." And Dr. Alec drew her
close beside him with such a fatherly look and tone that she felt it
would be very easy to love and obey him since he knew how to mix praise
and blame so pleasantly together.

Another chapter was just finished, when the sound of a carriage warned
them that Aunt Jane was about to depart. Before they could go to meet
her, however, she appeared in the door-way looking like an unusually
tall mummy in her waterproof, with her glasses shining like cat's eyes
from the depths of the hood.

"Just as I thought! petting that child to death and letting her sit up
late reading trash. I do hope you feel the weight of the responsibility
you have taken upon yourself, Alec," she said, with a certain grim sort
of satisfaction at seeing things go wrong.

"I think I have a very realizing sense of it, sister Jane," answered Dr.
Alec, with a comical shrug of the shoulders and a glance at Rose's
bright face.

"It is sad to see a great girl wasting these precious hours so. Now, my
boys have studied all day, and Mac is still at his books, I've no doubt,
while you have not had a lesson since you came, I suspect."

"I have had five to-day, ma'am," was Rose's very unexpected answer.

"I'm glad to hear it; and what were they, pray?"

Rose looked very demure as she replied,--

"Navigation, geography, grammar, arithmetic, and keeping my temper."

"Queer lessons, I fancy; and what have you learned from this remarkable
mixture, I should like to know?"

A naughty sparkle came into Rose's eyes as she answered, with a droll
look at her uncle,--

"I can't tell you all, ma'am, but I have collected some useful
information about China, which you may like, especially the teas. The
best are Lapsing Souchong, Assam Pekoe, rare Ankoe, Flowery Pekoe,
Howqua's mixture, Scented Caper, Padral tea, black Congou, and green
Twankey. Shanghai is on the Woosung River. Hong Kong means 'Island of
sweet waters.' Singapore is 'Lion's Town.' 'Chops' are the boats they
live in; and they drink tea out of little saucers. Principal productions
are porcelain, tea, cinnamon, shawls, tin, tamarinds, and opium. They
have beautiful temples and queer gods; and in Canton is the Dwelling of
the Holy Pigs, fourteen of them, very big, and all blind."

The effect of this remarkable burst was immense, especially the fact
last mentioned. It entirely took the wind out of Aunt Jane's sails; it
was so sudden, so varied and unexpected, that she had not a word to say.
The glasses remained fixed full upon Rose for a moment, and then, with a
hasty "Oh, indeed!" the excellent lady bundled into her carriage and
drove away, somewhat bewildered and very much disturbed.

She would have been more so if she had seen her reprehensible
brother-in-law dancing a triumphal polka down the hall with Rose in
honor of having silenced the enemy's battery for once.




CHAPTER IX.

_PHEBE'S SECRET._


"WHY do you keep smiling to yourself, Phebe?" asked Rose, as they were
working together one morning, for Dr. Alec considered house-work the
best sort of gymnastics for girls; so Rose took lessons of Phebe in
sweeping, dusting, and bed-making.

"I was thinking about a nice little secret I know, and couldn't help
smiling."

"Shall I know it sometime?"

"Guess you will."

"Shall I like it?"

"Oh, won't you, though!"

"Will it happen soon?"

"Sometime this week."

"I know what it is! The boys are going to have fire-works on the Fourth,
and have got some surprise for me. Haven't they?"

"That's telling."

"Well, I can wait; only tell me one thing,--is uncle in it?"

"Of course he is; there's never any fun without him."

"Then it is all right, and sure to be nice."

Rose went out on the balcony to shake the rugs, and, having given them a
vigorous beating, hung them on the balustrade to air, while she took a
look at her plants. Several tall vases and jars stood there, and a month
of June sun and rain had worked wonders with the seeds and slips she had
planted. Morning-glories and nasturtiums ran all over the bars, making
haste to bloom. Scarlet beans and honeysuckles were climbing up from
below to meet their pretty neighbors, and the woodbine was hanging its
green festoons wherever it could cling.

The waters of the bay were dancing in the sunshine, a fresh wind stirred
the chestnut-trees with a pleasant sound, and the garden below was full
of roses, butterflies, and bees. A great chirping and twittering went on
among the birds, busy with their summer housekeeping, and, far away, the
white-winged gulls were dipping and diving in the sea, where ships, like
larger birds, went sailing to and fro.

"Oh, Phebe, it's such a lovely day, I do wish your fine secret was going
to happen right away! I feel just like having a good time; don't you?"
said Rose, waving her arms as if she was going to fly.

"I often feel that way, but I have to wait for my good times, and don't
stop working to wish for 'em. There, now you can finish as soon as the
dust settles; I must go do my stairs," and Phebe trudged away with the
broom, singing as she went.

Rose leaned where she was, and fell to thinking how many good times she
had had lately, for the gardening had prospered finely, and she was
learning to swim and row, and there were drives and walks, and quiet
hours of reading and talk with Uncle Alec, and, best of all, the old
pain and _ennui_ seldom troubled her now. She could work and play all
day, sleep sweetly all night, and enjoy life with the zest of a healthy,
happy child. She was far from being as strong and hearty as Phebe, but
she was getting on; the once pale cheeks had color in them now, the
hands were growing plump and brown, and the belt was not much too loose.
No one talked to her about her health, and she forgot that she had "no
constitution." She took no medicine but Dr. Alec's three great remedies,
and they seemed to suit her excellently. Aunt Plenty said it was the
pills; but, as no second batch ever followed the first, I think the old
lady was mistaken.

Rose looked worthy of her name as she stood smiling to herself over a
happier secret than any Phebe had,--a secret which she did not know
herself till she found out, some years later, the magic of good health.

    "'Look only,' said the brownie,
       'At the pretty gown of blue,
     At the kerchief pinned about her head,
       And at her little shoe,'"

said a voice from below, as a great cabbage-rose came flying against her
cheek.

"What is the princess dreaming about up there in her hanging-garden?"
added Dr. Alec as she flung back a morning-glory.

"I was wishing I could do something pleasant this fine day; something
very new and interesting, for the wind makes me feel frisky and gay."

"Suppose we take a pull over to the Island? I intended to go this
afternoon; but if you feel more like it now, we can be off at once."

"I do! I do! I'll come in fifteen minutes, uncle. I _must_ just scrabble
my room to rights, for Phebe has got a great deal to do."

Rose caught up the rugs and vanished as she spoke, while Dr. Alec went
in, saying to himself, with an indulgent smile,--

"It may upset things a trifle, but half a child's pleasure consists in
having their fun _when_ they want it."

Never did duster flap more briskly than the one Rose used that day, and
never was a room "scrabbled" to rights in such haste as hers. Tables and
chairs flew into their places as if alive; curtains shook as if a gale
was blowing; china rattled and small articles tumbled about as if a
young earthquake was playing with them. The boating suit went on in a
twinkling, and Rose was off with a hop and a skip, little dreaming how
many hours it would be before she saw her pretty room again.

Uncle Alec was putting a large basket into the boat when she arrived,
and before they were off Phebe came running down with a queer, knobby
bundle done up in a water-proof.

"We can't eat half that luncheon, and I know we shall not need so many
wraps. I wouldn't lumber the boat up so," said Rose, who still had
secret scares when on the water.

"Couldn't you make a smaller parcel, Phebe?" asked Dr. Alec, eying the
bundle suspiciously.

"No, sir, not in such a hurry," and Phebe laughed as she gave a
particularly large knob a good poke.

"Well, it will do for ballast. Don't forget the note to Mrs. Jessie, I
beg of you."

"No, sir. I'll send it right off," and Phebe ran up the bank as if she
had wings to her feet.

"We'll take a look at the light-house first, for you have not been there
yet, and it is worth seeing. By the time we have done that it will be
pretty warm, and we will have lunch under the trees on the Island."

Rose was ready for any thing, and enjoyed her visit to the light-house
on the Point very much, especially climbing up the narrow stairs and
going inside the great lantern. They made a long stay, for Dr. Alec
seemed in no hurry to go, and kept looking through his spy-glass as if
he expected to discover something remarkable on sea or land. It was past
twelve before they reached the Island, and Rose was ready for her lunch
long before she got it.

"Now this _is_ lovely! I do wish the boys were here. Won't it be nice to
have them with us all their vacation? Why, it begins to-day, doesn't it?
Oh, I wish I'd remembered it sooner, and perhaps they would have come
with us," she said, as they lay luxuriously eating sandwiches under the
old apple-tree.

"So we might. Next time we won't be in such a hurry. I expect the lads
will take our heads off when they find us out," answered Dr. Alec,
placidly drinking cold tea.

"Uncle, I smell a frying sort of a smell," Rose said, pausing suddenly
as she was putting away the remains of the lunch half an hour later.

"So do I; it is fish, I think."

For a moment they both sat with their noses in the air, sniffing like
hounds; then Dr. Alec sprang up, saying with great decision,--

"Now this won't do! No one is permitted on this island without asking
leave. I must see who dares to fry fish on my private property."

Taking the basket on one arm and the bundle on the other, he strode away
toward the traitorous smell, looking as fierce as a lion, while Rose
marched behind under her umbrella.

"We are Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday going to see if the savages
have come," she said presently, for her fancy was full of the dear old
stories that all children love so well.

"And there they are! Two tents and two boats, as I live! These rascals
mean to enjoy themselves, that's evident."

"There ought to be more boats and no tents. I wonder where the prisoners
are?"

"There are traces of them," and Dr. Alec pointed to the heads and tails
of fishes strewn on the grass.

"And there are more," said Rose, laughing, as she pointed to a scarlet
heap of what looked like lobsters.

"The savages are probably eating their victims now; don't you hear the
knives rattle in that tent?"

"We ought to creep up and peep; Crusoe was cautious, you know, and
Friday scared out of his wits," added Rose, still keeping up the joke.

"But this Crusoe is going to pounce upon them regardless of
consequences. If I am killed and eaten, you seize the basket and run for
the boat; there are provisions enough for your voyage home."

With that Uncle Alec slipped round to the front of the tent, and,
casting in the big bundle like a bomb-shell, roared out, in a voice of
thunder,--

"Pirates, surrender!"

A crash, a shout, a laugh, and out came the savages, brandishing knives
and forks, chicken bones, and tin mugs, and all fell upon the intruder,
pommelling him unmercifully as they cried,--

"You came too soon! We are not half ready! You've spoilt it all! Where
is Rose?"

"Here I am," answered a half-stifled voice, and Rose was discovered
sitting on the pile of red flannel bathing-clothes, which she had
mistaken for lobsters, and where she had fallen in a fit of merriment
when she discovered that the cannibals were her merry cousins.

"You good-for-nothing boys! You are always bursting out upon me in some
ridiculous way, and I always get taken in because I'm not used to such
pranks. Uncle is as bad as the rest, and it's great fun," she said, as
the lads came round her, half scolding, half welcoming, and wholly
enjoying the double surprise.

"You were not to come till afternoon, and mamma was to be here to
receive you. Every thing is in a mess now, except your tent; we got that
in order the first thing, and you can sit there and see us work," said
Archie, doing the honors as usual.

"Rose felt it in her bones, as Dolly says, that something was in the
wind, and wanted to be off at once. So I let her come, and should have
kept her away an hour longer if your fish had not betrayed you,"
explained Uncle Alec, subsiding from a ferocious Crusoe into his
good-natured self again.

[Illustration: A CRASH, A SHOUT, A LAUGH, AND OUT CAME THE
SAVAGES.--Page 99.]

"As this seat is rather damp, I think I'll rise," said Rose, as the
excitement lessened a little.

Several fishy hands helped her up, and Charlie said, as he scattered the
scarlet garments over the grass with an oar,--

"We had a jolly good swim before dinner, and I told the Brats to spread
these to dry. Hope you brought _your_ things, Rose, for you belong to
the Lobsters, you know, and we can have no end of fun teaching you to
dive and float and tread water."

"I didn't bring any thing--" began Rose, but was interrupted by the
Brats (otherwise Will and Geordie), who appeared bearing the big bundle,
so much demoralised by its fall that a red flannel tunic trailed out at
one end and a little blue dressing-gown at the other, while the knobs
proved to be a toilet-case, rubbers, and a silver mug.

"Oh, that sly Phebe! This was the secret, and she bundled up those
things after I went down to the boat," cried Rose, with sparkling eyes.

"Guess something is smashed inside, for a bit of glass fell out,"
observed Will, as they deposited the bundle at her feet.

"Catch a girl going anywhere without a looking-glass. We haven't got one
among the whole lot of us," added Mac, with masculine scorn.

"Dandy has; I caught him touching up his wig behind the trees after our
swim," cut in Geordie, wagging a derisive finger at Steve, who promptly
silenced him by a smart rap on the head with the drum-stick he had just
polished off.

"Come, come, you lazy lubbers, fall to work, or we shall not be ready
for mamma. Take Rose's things to her tent, and tell her all about it,
Prince. Mac and Steve, you cut away and bring up the rest of the straw;
and you small chaps clear off the table, if you have stuffed all you
can. Please, uncle, I'd like your advice about the boundary lines and
the best place for the kitchen."

Every one obeyed the Chief, and Rose was escorted to her tent by
Charlie, who devoted himself to her service. She was charmed with her
quarters, and still more so with the programme which he unfolded before
her as they worked.

"We always camp out somewhere in vacation, and this year we thought we'd
try the Island. It is handy, and our fire-works will show off well from
here."

"Shall we stay over the Fourth? Three whole days! Oh, me! what a frolic
it will be!"

"Bless your heart, we often camp for a week, we big fellows; but this
year the small chaps wanted to come, so we let them. We have great
larks, as you'll see; for we have a cave and play Captain Kidd, and have
shipwrecks, and races, and all sorts of games. Arch and I are rather
past that kind of thing now, but we do it to please the children," added
Charlie, with a sudden recollection of his sixteen years.

"I had no idea boys had such good times. Their plays never seemed a bit
interesting before. But I suppose that was because I never knew any boys
very well, or perhaps you are unusually nice ones," observed Rose, with
an artless air of appreciation that was very flattering.

"We are a pretty clever set, I fancy; but we have a good many
advantages, you see. There are a tribe of us, to begin with; then our
family has been here for ages, and we have plenty of 'spondulics,' so we
can rather lord it over the other fellows and do as we like. There,
ma'am, you can hang your smashed glass on that nail and do up your back
hair as fine as you please. You can have a blue blanket or a red one,
and a straw pillow or an air cushion for your head, whichever you like.
You can trim up to any extent, and be as free and easy as squaws in a
wigwam, for this corner is set apart for you ladies, and we never cross
the line uncle is drawing until we ask leave. Any thing more I can do
for you, cousin?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll leave the rest till auntie comes, and go
and help you somewhere else, if I may."

"Yes, indeed, come on and see to the kitchen. Can you cook?" asked
Charlie, as he led the way to the rocky nook where Archie was putting up
a sail-cloth awning.

"I can make tea and toast bread."

"Well, we'll show you how to fry fish and make chowder. Now you just set
these pots and pans round tastefully, and sort of tidy up a bit, for
Aunt Jessie insists on doing some of the work, and I want it to be
decent here."

By four o'clock the camp was in order, and the weary workers settled
down on Lookout Rock to watch for Mrs. Jessie and Jamie, who was never
far from mamma's apron-string. They looked like a flock of blue-birds,
all being in sailor rig, with blue ribbon enough flying from the seven
hats to have set up a milliner. Very tuneful blue-birds they were, too,
for all the lads sang, and the echo of their happy voices reached Mrs.
Jessie long before she saw them.

The moment the boat hove in sight up went the Island flag, and the
blue-jackets cheered lustily, as they did on every possible occasion,
like true young Americans. This welcome was answered by the flapping of
a handkerchief and the shrill "Rah! Rah! Rah!" of the one small tar who
stood in the stern waving his hat manfully, while a maternal hand
clutched him firmly in the rear.

Cleopatra landing from her golden galley never received a heartier
greeting than "Little Mum" as she was borne to her tent by the young
folk, for love of whom she smilingly resigned herself to three days of
discomfort; while Jamie immediately attached himself to Rose, assuring
her of his protection from the manifold perils which might assail them.

Taught by long experience that boys are _always_ hungry, Aunt Jessie
soon proposed supper, and proceeded to get it, enveloped in an immense
apron, with an old hat of Archie's stuck atop of her cap. Rose helped,
and tried to be as handy as Phebe, though the peculiar style of table
she had to set made it no easy task. It was accomplished at last, and a
very happy party lay about under the trees, eating and drinking out of
any one's plate and cup, and quite untroubled by the frequent appearance
of ants and spiders in places which these interesting insects are not
expected to adorn.

"I never thought I should like to wash dishes, but I do," said Rose, as
she sat in a boat after supper lazily rinsing plates in the sea, and
rocking luxuriously as she wiped them.

"Mum is mighty particular; we just give 'em a scrub with sand, and dust
'em off with a bit of paper. It's much the best way, _I_ think," replied
Geordie, who reposed in another boat alongside.

"How Phebe would like this! I wonder uncle did not have her come."

"I believe he tried to, but Dolly was as cross as two sticks, and said
she couldn't spare her. I'm sorry, for we all like the Phebe bird, and
she'd chirp like a good one out here, wouldn't she?"

"She ought to have a holiday like the rest of us. It's too bad to leave
her out."

This thought came back to Rose several times that evening, for Phebe
would have added much to the little concert they had in the moonlight,
would have enjoyed the stories told, been quick at guessing the
conundrums, and laughed with all her heart at the fun. The merry going
to bed would have been best of all, for Rose wanted some one to cuddle
under the blue blanket with her, there to whisper and giggle and tell
secrets, as girls delight to do.

Long after the rest were asleep, Rose lay wide awake, excited by the
novelty of all about her, and a thought that had come into her mind. Far
away she heard a city clock strike twelve; a large star like a mild eye
peeped in at the opening of the tent, and the soft plash of the waves
seemed calling her to come out. Aunt Jessie lay fast asleep, with Jamie
rolled up like a kitten at her feet, and neither stirred as Rose in her
wrapper crept out to see how the world looked at midnight.

She found it very lovely, and sat down on a cracker keg to enjoy it
with a heart full of the innocent sentiment of her years. Fortunately,
Dr. Alec saw her before she had time to catch cold, for coming out to
tie back the door-flap of his tent for more air, he beheld the small
figure perched in the moonlight. Having no fear of ghosts, he quietly
approached, and, seeing that she was wide awake, said, with a hand on
her shining hair,--

"What is my girl doing here?"

"Having a good time," answered Rose, not at all startled.

"I wonder what she was thinking about with such a sober look?"

"The story you told of the brave sailor who gave up his place on the
raft to the woman, and the last drop of water to the poor baby. People
who make sacrifices are very much loved and admired, aren't they?" she
asked, earnestly.

"If the sacrifice is a true one. But many of the bravest never are
known, and get no praise. That does not lessen their beauty, though
perhaps it makes them harder, for we all like sympathy," and Dr. Alec
sighed a patient sort of sigh.

"I suppose you have made a great many? Would you mind telling me one of
them?" asked Rose, arrested by the sigh.

"My last was to give up smoking," was the very unromantic answer to her
pensive question.

"Why did you?"

"Bad example for the boys."

"That was very good of you, uncle! Was it hard?"

"I'm ashamed to say it was. But as a wise old fellow once said, 'It is
necessary to do right; it is not necessary to be happy.'"

Rose pondered over the saying as if it pleased her, and then said, with
a clear, bright look,--

"A real sacrifice is giving up something you want or enjoy very much,
isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Doing it one's own self because one loves another person very much and
wants her to be happy?"

"Yes."

"And doing it pleasantly, and being glad about it, and not minding the
praise if it doesn't come?"

"Yes, dear, that is the true spirit of self-sacrifice; you seem to
understand it, and I dare say you will have many chances in your life to
try the real thing. I hope they won't be very hard ones."

"I think they will," began Rose, and there stopped short.

"Well, make one now, and go to sleep, or my girl will be ill to-morrow,
and then the aunts will say camping out was bad for her."

"I'll go,--good night!" and throwing him a kiss, the little ghost
vanished, leaving Uncle Alec to pace the shore and think about some of
the unsuspected sacrifices that had made him what he was.




CHAPTER X.

_ROSE'S SACRIFICE._


THERE certainly were "larks" on Campbell's Island next day, as Charlie
had foretold, and Rose took her part in them like one intent on enjoying
every minute to the utmost. There was a merry breakfast, a successful
fishing expedition, and then the lobsters came out in full force, for
even Aunt Jessie appeared in red flannel. There was nothing Uncle Alec
could not do in the water, and the boys tried their best to equal him in
strength and skill, so there was a great diving and ducking, for every
one was bent on distinguishing himself.

Rose swam far out beyond her depth, with uncle to float her back; Aunt
Jessie splashed placidly in the shallow pools, with Jamie paddling near
by like a little whale beside its mother; while the lads careered about,
looking like a flock of distracted flamingoes, and acting like the
famous dancing party in "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland."

Nothing but chowder would have lured them from their gambols in the
briny deep; that time-honored dish demanded the concentrated action of
several mighty minds; so the "Water Babies" came ashore and fell to
cooking.

It is unnecessary to say that, when done, it was the most remarkable
chowder ever cooked, and the quantity eaten would have amazed the world
if the secret had been divulged. After this exertion a _siesta_ was
considered the thing, and people lay about in tents or out as they
pleased, the boys looking like warriors slumbering where they fell.

The elders had just settled to a comfortable nap when the youngsters
rose, refreshed and ready for further exploits. A hint sent them all off
to the cave, and there were discovered bows and arrows, battle clubs,
old swords, and various relics of an interesting nature. Perched upon a
commanding rock, with Jamie to "splain" things to her, Rose beheld a
series of stirring scenes enacted with great vigor and historical
accuracy by her gifted relatives.

Captain Cook was murdered by the natives of Owhyhee in the most
thrilling manner. Captain Kidd buried untold wealth in the chowder
kettle at the dead of night, and shot both the trusting villains who
shared the secret of the hiding-place. Sinbad came ashore there and had
manifold adventures, and numberless wrecks bestrewed the sands.

Rose considered them by far the most exciting dramas she had ever
witnessed; and when the performance closed with a grand ballet of Feejee
Islanders, whose barbaric yells alarmed the gulls, she had no words in
which to express her gratification.

Another swim at sunset, another merry evening on the rocks watching the
lighted steamers pass seaward and the pleasure-boats come into port,
ended the second day of the camping out, and sent every one to bed
early that they might be ready for the festivities of the morrow.

"Archie, didn't I hear uncle ask you to row home in the morning for
fresh milk and things?"

"Yes; why?"

"Please, may I go too? I have something of _great_ importance to
arrange; you know I was carried off in a hurry," Rose said in a
confidential whisper as she was bidding her cousins good-night.

"I'm willing, and I guess Charlie won't mind."

"Thank you; be sure you stand by me when I ask leave in the morning, and
don't say any thing till then, except to Charlie. Promise," urged Rose,
so eagerly that Archie struck an attitude, and cried dramatically,--

"By yonder moon I swear!"

"Hush! it's all right, go along;" and Rose departed as if satisfied.

"She's a queer little thing, isn't she, Prince?"

"Rather a nice little thing, _I_ think. I'm quite fond of her."

Rose's quick ears caught both remarks, and she retired to her tent,
saying to herself with sleepy dignity,--

"Little thing, indeed! Those boys talk as if I was a baby. They will
treat me with more respect after to-morrow, I guess."

Archie did stand by her in the morning, and her request was readily
granted, as the lads were coming directly back. Off they went, and Rose
waved her hand to the islanders with a somewhat pensive air, for an
heroic purpose glowed within her, and the spirit of self-sacrifice was
about to be illustrated in a new and touching manner.

While the boys got the milk Rose ran to Phebe, ordered her to leave her
dishes, to put on her hat and take a note back to Uncle Alec, which
would explain this somewhat mysterious performance. Phebe obeyed, and
when she went to the boat Rose accompanied her, telling the boys she was
not ready to go yet, but they could some of them come for her when she
hung a white signal on her balcony.

"But why not come now? What are you about, miss? Uncle won't like it,"
protested Charlie, in great amazement.

"Just do as I tell you, little boy; uncle will understand and explain.
Obey, as Phebe does, and ask no questions. _I_ can have secrets as well
as other people;" and Rose walked off with an air of lofty independence
that impressed her friends immensely.

"It's some plot between uncle and herself, so we won't meddle. All
right, Phebe? Pull away, Prince;" and off they went, to be received with
much surprise by the islanders.

This was the note Phebe bore:--

      "DEAR UNCLE,--I am going to take Phebe's place to-day,
      and let her have all the fun she can. Please don't
      mind what she says, but keep her, and tell the boys to
      be very good to her for my sake. Don't think it is
      easy to do this; it is very hard to give up the best
      day of all, but I feel so selfish to have all the
      pleasure, and Phebe none, that I wish to make this
      sacrifice. Do let me, and don't laugh at it; I truly
      do not wish to be praised, and I truly want to do it.
      Love to all from

                                                "ROSE."

"Bless the little dear, what a generous heart she has! Shall we go after
her, Jessie, or let her have her way?" said Dr. Alec, after the first
mingled amusement and astonishment had subsided.

"Let her alone, and don't spoil her little sacrifice. She means it, I
know, and the best way in which we can show our respect for her effort
is to give Phebe a pleasant day. I'm sure she has earned it;" and Mrs.
Jessie made a sign to the boys to suppress their disappointment and
exert themselves to please Rose's guest.

Phebe was with difficulty kept from going straight home, and declared
that she should not enjoy herself one bit without Miss Rose.

"She won't hold out all day, and we shall see her paddling back before
noon, I'll wager any thing," said Charlie; and the rest so strongly
inclined to his opinion that they resigned themselves to the loss of the
little queen of the revels, sure that it would be only a temporary one.

But hour after hour passed, and no signal appeared on the balcony,
though Phebe watched it hopefully. No passing boat brought the truant
back, though more than one pair of eyes looked out for the bright hair
under the round hat; and sunset came, bringing no Rose but the lovely
color in the western sky.

"I really did not think the child had it in her. I fancied it was a bit
of sentiment, but I see she _was_ in earnest, and means that her
sacrifice shall be a true one. Dear little soul! I'll make it up to her
a thousand times over, and beg her pardon for thinking it might be done
for effect," Dr. Alec said remorsefully, as he strained his eyes through
the dusk, fancying he saw a small figure sitting in the garden as it had
sat on the keg the night before, laying the generous little plot that
had cost more than he could guess.

"Well, she can't help seeing the fire-works any way, unless she is goose
enough to think she must hide in a dark closet and not look," said
Archie, who was rather disgusted at Rose's seeming ingratitude.

"She will see ours capitally, but miss the big ones on the hill, unless
papa has forgotten all about them," added Steve, cutting short the
harangue Mac had begun upon the festivals of the ancients.

"I'm sure the sight of her will be better than the finest fire-works
that ever went off," said Phebe, meditating an elopement with one of the
boats if she could get a chance.

"Let things work; if she resists the brilliant invitation we give her
she will be a heroine," added Uncle Alec, secretly hoping that she would
not.

Meanwhile Rose had spent a quiet, busy day helping Dolly, waiting on
Aunt Peace, and steadily resisting Aunt Plenty's attempts to send her
back to the happy island. It had been hard in the morning to come in
from the bright world outside, with flags flying, cannon booming,
crackers popping, and every one making ready for a holiday, and go to
washing cups, while Dolly grumbled and the aunts lamented. It was very
hard to see the day go by, knowing how gay each hour must have been
across the water, and how a word from her would take her where she
longed to be with all her heart. But it was hardest of all when evening
came and Aunt Peace was asleep, Aunt Plenty seeing a gossip in the
parlor, Dolly established in the porch to enjoy the show, and nothing
left for the little maid to do but sit alone in her balcony and watch
the gay rockets whizz up from island, hill, and city, while bands played
and boats laden with happy people went to and fro in the fitful light.

Then it must be confessed that a tear or two dimmed the blue eyes, and
once, when a very brilliant display illuminated the island for a moment,
and she fancied she saw the tents, the curly head went down on the
railing, and a wide-awake nasturtium heard a little whisper,--

"I hope some one wishes I was there!"

The tears were all gone, however, and she was watching the hill and
island answer each other with what Jamie called "whizzers, whirligigs,
and busters," and smiling as she thought how hard the boys must be
working to keep up such a steady fire, when Uncle Mac came walking in
upon her, saying hurriedly,--

"Come, child, put on your tippet, pelisse, or whatever you call it, and
run off with me. I came to get Phebe, but aunt says she is gone, so I
want you. I've got Fun down in the boat, and I want you to go with us
and see my fire-works. Got them up for you, and you mustn't miss them,
or I shall be disappointed."

"But, uncle," began Rose, feeling as if she ought to refuse even a
glimpse of bliss, "perhaps--"

"I know, my dear, I know; aunt told me; but no one needs you now so much
as I do, and I insist on your coming," said Uncle Mac, who seemed in a
great hurry to be off, yet was unusually kind.

So Rose went and found the little Chinaman with a funny lantern waiting
to help her in and convulse her with laughter trying to express his
emotions in pigeon English. The city clocks were striking nine as they
got out into the bay, and the island fire-works seemed to be over, for
no rocket answered the last Roman candle that shone on the Aunt-hill.

"Ours are done, I see, but they are going up all round the city, and how
pretty they are," said Rose, folding her mantle about her and surveying
the scene with a pensive interest.

"Hope my fellows have not got into trouble up there," muttered Uncle
Mac, adding, with a satisfied chuckle, as a spark shone out, "No; there
it goes! Look, Rosy, and see how you like this one; it was ordered
especially in honor of your coming."

Rose looked with all her eyes, and saw the spark grow into the likeness
of a golden vase, then green leaves came out, and then a crimson flower
glowing on the darkness with a splendid lustre.

"Is it a rose, uncle?" she asked, clasping her hands with delight as she
recognized the handsome flower.

"Of course it is! Look again, and guess what those are," answered Uncle
Mac, chuckling and enjoying it all like a boy.

A wreath of what looked at first like purple brooms appeared below the
vase, but Rose guessed what they were meant for and stood straight up,
holding by his shoulder, and crying excitedly,--

"Thistles, uncle, Scotch thistles! There are seven of them,--one for
each boy! Oh, what a joke!" and she laughed so that she plumped into the
bottom of the boat and stayed there till the brilliant spectacle was
quite gone.

[Illustration: "THAT WAS RATHER A NEAT THING, I FLATTER MYSELF," SAID
UNCLE MAC.--Page 117.]

"That was rather a neat thing, I flatter myself," said Uncle Mac in high
glee at the success of his illumination. "Now, shall I leave you on the
Island or take you home again, my good little girl?" he added, lifting
her up with such a tone of approbation in his voice that Rose kissed him
on the spot.

"Home, please, uncle; and I thank you very, very much for the beautiful
fire-work you got up for me. I'm so glad I saw it; and I know I shall
dream about it," answered Rose steadily, though a wistful glance went
toward the Island, now so near that she could smell powder and see
shadowy figures flitting about.

Home they went; and Rose fell asleep saying to herself, "It was harder
than I thought, but I'm glad I did it, and I truly don't want any reward
but Phebe's pleasure."




CHAPTER XI.

_POOR MAC._


ROSE'S sacrifice was a failure in one respect, for, though the elders
loved her the better for it, and showed that they did, the boys were not
inspired with the sudden respect which she had hoped for. In fact, her
feelings were much hurt by overhearing Archie say that he couldn't see
any sense in it; and the Prince added another blow by pronouncing her
"the queerest chicken ever seen."

It is apt to be so, and it is hard to bear; for, though we do not want
trumpets blown, we do like to have our little virtues appreciated, and
cannot help feeling disappointed if they are not.

A time soon came, however, when Rose, quite unconsciously, won not only
the respect of her cousins, but their gratitude and affection likewise.

Soon after the Island episode, Mac had a sun-stroke, and was very ill
for some time. It was so sudden that every one was startled, and for
some days the boy's life was in danger. He pulled through, however; and
then, just as the family were rejoicing, a new trouble appeared which
cast a gloom over them all.

Poor Mac's eyes gave out; and well they might, for he had abused them,
and never being very strong, they suffered doubly now.

No one dared to tell him the dark predictions of the great oculist who
came to look at them, and the boy tried to be patient, thinking that a
few weeks of rest would repair the overwork of several years.

He was forbidden to look at a book, and as that was the one thing he
most delighted in, it was a terrible affliction to the Worm. Every one
was very ready to read to him, and at first the lads contended for this
honor. But as week after week went by, and Mac was still condemned to
idleness and a darkened room, their zeal abated, and one after the other
fell off. It _was_ hard for the active fellows, right in the midst of
their vacation; and nobody blamed them when they contented themselves
with brief calls, running of errands, and warm expressions of sympathy.

The elders did their best, but Uncle Mac was a busy man, Aunt Jane's
reading was of a funereal sort, impossible to listen to long, and the
other aunties were all absorbed in their own cares, though they supplied
the boy with every delicacy they could invent.

Uncle Alec was a host in himself, but he could not give all his time to
the invalid; and if it had not been for Rose, the afflicted Worm would
have fared ill. Her pleasant voice suited him, her patience was
unfailing, her time of no apparent value, and her eager good-will was
very comforting.

The womanly power of self-devotion was strong in the child, and she
remained faithfully at her post when all the rest dropped away. Hour
after hour she sat in the dusky room, with one ray of light on her
book, reading to the boy, who lay with shaded eyes silently enjoying the
only pleasure that lightened the weary days. Sometimes he was peevish
and hard to please, sometimes he growled because his reader could not
manage the dry books he wished to hear, and sometimes he was so
despondent that her heart ached to see him. Through all these trials
Rose persevered, using all her little arts to please him. When he
fretted, she was patient; when he growled, she ploughed bravely through
the hard pages,--not dry to her in one sense, for quiet tears dropped on
them now and then; and when Mac fell into a despairing mood, she
comforted him with every hopeful word she dared to offer.

He said little, but she knew he was grateful, for she suited him better
than any one else. If she was late, he was impatient; when she had to
go, he seemed forlorn; and when the tired head ached worst, she could
always soothe him to sleep, crooning the old songs her father used to
love.

"I don't know what I _should_ do without that child," Aunt Jane often
said.

"She's worth all those racketing fellows put together," Mac would add,
fumbling about to discover if the little chair was ready for her coming.

That was the sort of reward Rose liked, the thanks that cheered her; and
whenever she grew very tired, one look at the green shade, the curly
head so restless on the pillow, and the poor groping hands, touched her
tender heart and put new spirit into the weary voice.

She did not know how much she was learning, both from the books she read
and the daily sacrifices she made. Stories and poetry were her delight,
but Mac did not care for them; and since his favorite Greeks and Romans
were forbidden, he satisfied himself with travels, biographies, and the
history of great inventions or discoveries. Rose despised this taste at
first, but soon got interested in Livingstone's adventures, Hobson's
stirring life in India, and the brave trials and triumphs of Watt and
Arkwright, Fulton, and "Palissy, the Potter." The true, strong books
helped the dreamy girl; her faithful service and sweet patience touched
and won the boy; and long afterward both learned to see how useful those
seemingly hard and weary hours had been to them.

One bright morning, as Rose sat down to begin a fat volume entitled
"History of the French Revolution," expecting to come to great grief
over the long names, Mac, who was lumbering about the room like a blind
bear, stopped her by asking abruptly,--

"What day of the month is it?"

"The seventh of August, I believe."

"More than half my vacation gone, and I've only had a week of it! I call
that hard," and he groaned dismally.

"So it is; but there is more to come, and you may be able to enjoy
that."

"_May_ be able! I _will_ be able! Does that old noodle think I'm going
to stay stived up here much longer?"

"I guess he does, unless your eyes get on faster than they have yet."

"Has he said any thing more lately?"

"I haven't seen him, you know. Shall I begin?--this looks rather nice."

"Read away; it's all one to me." And Mac cast himself down upon the old
lounge, where his heavy head felt easiest.

Rose began with great spirit, and kept on gallantly for a couple of
chapters, getting over the unpronounceable names with unexpected
success, she thought, for her listener did not correct her once, and lay
so still she fancied he was deeply interested. All of a sudden she was
arrested in the middle of a fine paragraph by Mac, who sat bolt upright,
brought both feet down with a thump, and said, in a rough, excited
tone,--

"Stop! I don't hear a word, and you may as well save your breath to
answer my question."

"What is it?" asked Rose, looking uneasy, for she had something on her
mind, and feared that he suspected what it was. His next words proved
that she was right.

"Now look here, I want to know something, and you've _got_ to tell me."

"Please, don't,--" began Rose, beseechingly.

"You _must_, or I'll pull off this shade and stare at the sun as hard as
ever I can stare. Come now!" and he half rose, as if ready to execute
the threat.

"I will! oh, I will tell, if I know! But don't be reckless and do any
thing so crazy as that," cried Rose, in great distress.

"Very well; then listen, and don't dodge, as every one else does. Didn't
the doctor think my eyes worse the last time he came? Mother won't say,
but you _shall_."

"I believe he did," faltered Rose.

"I thought so! Did he say I should be able to go to school when it
begins?"

"No, Mac," very low.

"Ah!"

That was all, but Rose saw her cousin set his lips together and take a
long breath, as if she had hit him hard. He bore the disappointment
bravely, however, and asked quite steadily in a minute,--

"How soon does he think I _can_ study again?"

It was so hard to answer that! Yet Rose knew she must, for Aunt Jane had
declared she _could_ not do it, and Uncle Mac had begged her to break
the truth to the poor lad.

"Not for a good many months."

"How many?" he asked with a pathetic sort of gruffness.

"A year, perhaps."

"A whole year! Why, I expected to be ready for college by that time."
And, pushing up the shade, Mac stared at her with startled eyes, that
soon blinked and fell before the one ray of light.

"Plenty of time for that; you must be patient now, and get them
thoroughly well, or they will trouble you again when it will be harder
to spare them," she said, with tears in her own eyes.

"I won't do it! I _will_ study and get through somehow. It's all humbug
about taking care so long. These doctors like to keep hold of a fellow
if they can. But I won't stand it,--I vow I won't!" and he banged his
fist down on the unoffending pillow as if he were pommelling the
hard-hearted doctor.

"Now, Mac, listen to me," Rose said very earnestly, though her voice
shook a little and her heart ached. "You know you have hurt your eyes
reading by firelight and in the dusk, and sitting up late, and now
you'll have to pay for it; the doctor said so. You _must_ be careful,
and do as he tells you, or you will be--blind."

"No!"

"Yes, it is true, and he wanted us to tell you that nothing but entire
rest would cure you. I know it's dreadfully hard, but we'll all help
you; I'll read all day long, and lead you, and wait upon you, and try to
make it easier--"

She stopped there, for it was evident that he did not hear a sound; the
word "blind" seemed to have knocked him down, for he had buried his face
in the pillow, and lay so still that Rose was frightened. She sat
motionless for many minutes, longing to comfort him, but not knowing
how, and wishing Uncle Alec would come, for he had promised to tell Mac.

Presently, a sort of choking sound came out of the pillow, and went
straight to her heart,--the most pathetic sob she ever heard, for,
though it was the most natural means of relief, the poor fellow must not
indulge in it because of the afflicted eyes. The "French Revolution"
tumbled out of her lap, and, running to the sofa, she knelt down by it,
saying, with the motherly sort of tenderness girls feel for any
sorrowing creature,--

"Oh, my dear, you mustn't cry! It is so bad for your poor eyes. Take
your head out of that hot pillow, and let me cool it. I don't wonder
you feel so, but please don't cry. I'll cry for you; it won't hurt
_me_."

[Illustration: "RUNNING TO THE SOFA, SHE KNELT DOWN BY IT."]

As she spoke, she pulled away the cushion with gentle force, and saw the
green shade all crushed and stained with the few hot tears that told
how bitter the disappointment had been. Mac felt her sympathy, but,
being a boy, did not thank her for it; only sat up with a jerk, saying,
as he tried to rub away the tell-tale drops with the sleeve of his
jacket: "Don't bother; weak eyes always water. I'm all right."

But Rose cried out, and caught his arm: "Don't touch them with that
rough woollen stuff! Lie down and let me bathe them, there's a dear boy;
then there will be no harm done."

"They do smart confoundedly. I say, don't you tell the other fellows
that I made a baby of myself, will you?" he added, yielding with a sigh
to the orders of his nurse, who had flown for the eye-wash and linen
cambric handkerchief.

"Of course I won't; but any one would be upset at the idea of
being--well--troubled in this way. I'm sure you bear it splendidly, and
you know it isn't half so bad when you get used to it. Besides, it is
only for a time, and you can do lots of pleasant things if you can't
study. You'll have to wear blue goggles, perhaps; won't that be funny?"

And while she was pouring out all the comfortable words she could think
of, Rose was softly bathing the eyes and dabbing the hot forehead with
lavender-water, as her patient lay quiet with a look on his face that
grieved her sadly.

"Homer was blind, and so was Milton, and they did something to be
remembered by, in spite of it," he said, as if to himself, in a solemn
tone, for even the blue goggles did not bring a smile.

"Papa had a picture of Milton and his daughters writing for him. It was
a very sweet picture, I thought," observed Rose in a serious voice,
trying to meet the sufferer on his own ground.

"Perhaps I could study if some one read and did the eye part. Do you
suppose I could, by and by?" he asked, with a sudden ray of hope.

"I dare say, if your head is strong enough. This sun-stroke, you know,
is what upset you, and your brains need rest, the doctor says."

"I'll have a talk with the old fellow next time he comes, and find out
just what I _may_ do; then I shall know where I am. What a fool I was
that day to be stewing my brains and letting the sun glare on my book
till the letters danced before me! I see 'em now when I shut my eyes;
black balls bobbing round, and stars and all sorts of queer things.
Wonder if all blind people do?"

"Don't think about them; I'll go on reading, shall I? We shall come to
the exciting part soon, and then you'll forget all this," suggested
Rose.

"No, I never shall forget. Hang the old 'Revolution!' I don't want to
hear another word of it. My head aches, and I'm hot. Oh, wouldn't I like
to go for a pull in the 'Stormy Petrel!'" and poor Mac tossed about as
if he did not know what to do with himself.

"Let me sing, and perhaps you'll drop off; then the day will seem
shorter," said Rose, taking up a fan and sitting down beside him.

"Perhaps I shall; I didn't sleep much last night, and when I did I
dreamed like fun. See here, you tell the people that I know, and it's
all right, and I don't want them to talk about it or howl over me.
That's all; now drone away, and I'll try to sleep. Wish I could for a
year, and wake up cured."

"Oh, I wish, I wish you could!"

Rose said it so fervently, that Mac was moved to grope for her apron and
hold on to a corner of it, as if it was comfortable to feel her near
him. But all he said was,--

"You are a good little soul, Rosy. Give us 'The Birks;' that is a drowsy
one that always sends me off."

Quite contented with this small return for all her sympathy, Rose waved
her fan and sang, in a dreamy tone, the pretty Scotch air, the burden of
which is,--

    "Bonny lassie, will ye gang, will ye gang
      To the Birks of Aberfeldie?"

Whether the lassie went or not I cannot say, but the laddie was off to
the land of Nod in about ten minutes, quite worn out with hearing the
bad tidings and the effort to bear them manfully.




CHAPTER XII.

"_THE OTHER FELLOWS._"


ROSE did tell "the people" what had passed, and no one "howled" over
Mac, or said a word to trouble him. He had his talk with the doctor, and
got very little comfort out of it, for he found that "just what he might
do" was nothing at all; though the prospect of some study by and by, if
all went well, gave him courage to bear the woes of the present. Having
made up his mind to this, he behaved so well that every one was
astonished, never having suspected so much manliness in the quiet Worm.

The boys were much impressed, both by the greatness of the affliction
which hung over him and by his way of bearing it. They were very good to
him, but not always particularly wise in their attempts to cheer and
amuse; and Rose often found him much downcast after a visit of
condolence from the Clan. She still kept her place as head-nurse and
chief-reader, though the boys did their best in an irregular sort of
way. They were rather taken aback sometimes at finding Rose's services
preferred to theirs, and privately confided to one another that "Old Mac
was getting fond of being molly-coddled." But they could not help
seeing how useful she was, and owning that she alone had remained
faithful,--a fact which caused some of them much secret compunction now
and then.

Rose felt that she ruled in that room, if nowhere else, for Aunt Jane
left a great deal to her, finding that her experience with her invalid
father fitted her for a nurse, and in a case like this her youth was an
advantage rather than a drawback. Mac soon came to think that no one
could take care of him so well as Rose, and Rose soon grew fond of her
patient, though at first she had considered this cousin the least
attractive of the seven. He was not polite and sensible like Archie, nor
gay and handsome like Prince Charlie, nor neat and obliging like Steve,
nor amusing like the "Brats," nor confiding and affectionate like little
Jamie. He was rough, absent-minded, careless, and awkward, rather
priggish, and not at all agreeable to a dainty, beauty-loving girl like
Rose.

But when his trouble came upon him, she discovered many good things in
this cousin of hers, and learned not only to pity but to respect and
love the poor Worm, who tried to be patient, brave, and cheerful, and
found it a harder task than any one guessed, except the little nurse,
who saw him in his gloomiest moods. She soon came to think that his
friends did not appreciate him, and upon one occasion was moved to free
her mind in a way that made a deep impression on the boys.

Vacation was almost over, and the time drawing near when Mac would be
left outside the happy school-world which he so much enjoyed. This made
him rather low in his mind, and his cousins exerted themselves to cheer
him up, especially one afternoon when a spasm of devotion seemed to
seize them all. Jamie trudged down the hill with a basket of
blackberries which he had "picked all his ownself," as his scratched
fingers and stained lips plainly testified. Will and Geordie brought
their puppies to beguile the weary hours, and the three elder lads
called to discuss base-ball, cricket, and kindred subjects, eminently
fitted to remind the invalid of his privations.

Rose had gone to drive with Uncle Alec, who declared she was getting as
pale as a potato sprout, living so much in a dark room. But her thoughts
were with her boy all the while, and she ran up to him the moment she
returned, to find things in a fine state of confusion.

With the best intentions in life, the lads had done more harm than good,
and the spectacle that met Nurse Rose's eye was a trying one. The
puppies were yelping, the small boys romping, and the big boys all
talking at once; the curtains were up, the room close, berries scattered
freely about, Mac's shade half off, his cheeks flushed, his temper
ruffled, and his voice loudest of all as he disputed hotly with Steve
about lending certain treasured books which he could no longer use.

[Illustration: "THE SPECTACLE THAT MET NURSE ROSE'S EYE WAS A TRYING
ONE."--Page 131]

Now Rose considered this her special kingdom, and came down upon the
invaders with an energy which amazed them and quelled the riot at once.
They had never seen her roused before, and the effect was tremendous;
also comical, for she drove the whole flock of boys out of the room
like an indignant little hen defending her brood. They all went as
meekly as sheep; the small lads fled from the house precipitately, but
the three elder ones only retired to the next room, and remained there
hoping for a chance to explain and apologize, and so appease the irate
young lady, who had suddenly turned the tables and clattered them about
their ears.

As they waited, they observed her proceedings through the half-open
door, and commented upon them briefly but expressively, feeling quite
bowed down with remorse at the harm they had innocently done.

"She's put the room to rights in a jiffy. What jacks we were to let
those dogs in and kick up such a row," observed Steve, after a prolonged
peep.

"The poor old Worm turns as if she was treading on him instead of
cuddling him like a pussy cat. Isn't he cross, though?" added Charlie,
as Mac was heard growling about his "confounded head."

"She will manage him; but it's mean in us to rumple him up and then
leave her to smooth him down. I'd go and help, but I don't know how,"
said Archie, looking much depressed, for he was a conscientious fellow,
and blamed himself for his want of thought.

"No more do I. Odd, isn't it, what a knack women have for taking care of
sick folks?" and Charlie fell a-musing over this undeniable fact.

"She has been ever so good to Mac," began Steve, in a self-reproachful
tone.

"Better than his own brother, hey?" cut in Archie, finding relief for
his own regret in the delinquencies of another.

"Well, you needn't preach; you didn't any of you do any more, and you
might have, for Mac likes you better than he does me. I always fret him,
he says, and it isn't my fault if I am a quiddle," protested Steve, in
self-defence.

"We have all been selfish and neglected him, so we won't fight about it,
but try and do better," said Archie, generously taking more than his
share of blame, for he had been less inattentive than either of the
others.

"Rose has stood by him like a good one, and it's no wonder he likes to
have her round best. I should myself if I was down on my luck as he is,"
put in Charlie, feeling that he really had not done "the little thing"
justice.

"I'll tell you what it is, boys,--we haven't been half good enough to
Rose, and we've got to make it up to her somehow," said Archie, who had
a very manly sense of honor about paying his debts, even to a girl.

"I'm awfully sorry I made fun of her doll when Jamie lugged it out; and
I called her 'baby bunting' when she cried over the dead kitten. Girls
_are_ such geese sometimes, I can't help it," said Steve, confessing his
transgressions handsomely, and feeling quite ready to atone for them if
he only knew how.

"I'll go down on my knees and beg her pardon for treating her as if she
was a child. Don't it make her mad, though? Come to think of it, she's
only two years or so younger than I am. But she is so small and pretty,
she always seems like a dolly to me," and the Prince looked down from
his lofty height of five feet five as if Rose was indeed a pygmy beside
him.

"That dolly has got a real good little heart, and a bright mind of her
own, you'd better believe. Mac says she understands some things quicker
than he can, and mother thinks she is an uncommonly nice girl, though
she don't know all creation. You needn't put on airs, Charlie, though
you _are_ a tall one, for Rose likes Archie better than you; she said
she did because he treated her respectfully."

"Steve looks as fierce as a game-cock; but don't you get excited, my
son, for it won't do a bit of good. Of course, everybody likes the Chief
best; they ought to, and I'll punch their heads if they don't. So calm
yourself, Dandy, and mend your own manners before you come down on other
people's."

Thus the Prince with great dignity and perfect good nature, while Archie
looked modestly gratified with the flattering opinions of his kinsfolk,
and Steve subsided, feeling he had done his duty as a cousin and a
brother. A pause ensued, during which Aunt Jane appeared in the other
room, accompanied by a tea-tray sumptuously spread, and prepared to feed
her big nestling, as that was a task she allowed no one to share with
her.

"If you have a minute to spare before you go, child, I wish you'd just
make Mac a fresh shade; this has got a berry stain on it, and he must be
tidy, for he is to go out to-morrow if it is a cloudy day," said Mrs.
Jane, spreading toast in a stately manner, while Mac slopped his tea
about without receiving a word of reproof.

"Yes, aunt," answered Rose, so meekly that the boys could hardly believe
it could be the same voice which had issued the stern command, "Out of
this room, every one of you!" not very long ago.

They had not time to retire, without unseemly haste, before she walked
into the parlor and sat down at the work-table without a word. It was
funny to see the look the three tall lads cast at the little person
sedately threading a needle with green silk. They all wanted to say
something expressive of repentance, but no one knew how to begin, and it
was evident, from the prim expression of Rose's face, that she intended
to stand upon her dignity till they had properly abased themselves. The
pause was becoming very awkward, when Charlie, who possessed all the
persuasive arts of a born scapegrace, went slowly down upon his knees
before her, beat his breast, and said, in a heart-broken tone,--

"Please forgive me this time, and I'll never do so any more."

It was very hard to keep sober, but Rose managed it, and answered
gravely,--

"It is Mac's pardon you should ask, not mine, for you haven't hurt me,
and I shouldn't wonder if you had him a great deal, with all that light
and racket, and talk about things that only worry him."

"Do you really think we've hurt him, cousin?" asked Archie, with a
troubled look, while Charlie settled down in a remorseful heap among the
table legs.

"Yes, I do, for he has got a raging headache, and his eyes are as red
as--as this emery bag," answered Rose, solemnly plunging her needle into
a fat flannel strawberry.

Steve tore his hair, metaphorically speaking, for he clutched his
cherished top-knot and wildly dishevelled it, as if that was the
heaviest penance he could inflict upon himself at such short notice.
Charlie laid himself out flat, melodramatically begging some one to take
him away and hang him; but Archie, who felt worst of all, said nothing
except to vow within himself that he would read to Mac till his own eyes
were as red as a dozen emery bags combined.

Seeing the wholesome effects of her treatment upon these culprits, Rose
felt that she might relent and allow them a gleam of hope. She found it
impossible to help trampling upon the prostrate Prince a little, in
words at least, for he had hurt her feelings oftener than he knew; so
she gave him a thimble-pie on the top of his head, and said, with the
air of an infinitely superior being,--

"Don't be silly, but get up, and I'll tell you something much better to
do than sprawling on the floor and getting all over lint."

Charlie obediently sat himself upon a hassock at her feet; the other
sinners drew near to catch the words of wisdom about to fall from her
lips, and Rose, softened by this gratifying humility, addressed them in
her most maternal tone.

"Now, boys, if you really want to be good to Mac, you can do it in this
way. Don't keep talking about things he can't do, or go and tell what
fun you have had batting your ridiculous balls about. Get some nice book
and read quietly; cheer him up about school, and offer to help him study
by and by; _you_ can do that better than I, because I'm only a girl,
and don't learn Greek and Latin and all sorts of headachy stuff."

"Yes, but you can do heaps of things better than we can; you've proved
that," said Archie, with an approving look that delighted Rose, though
she could not resist giving Charlie one more rebuke, by saying, with a
little bridling up of the head, and a curl of the lip that wanted to
smile instead,--

"I'm glad you think so, though I _am_ a 'queer chicken.'"

This scathing remark caused the Prince to hide his face for shame, and
Steve to erect his head in the proud consciousness that this shot was
not meant for him. Archie laughed, and Rose, seeing a merry blue eye
winking at her from behind two brown hands, gave Charlie's ear a
friendly tweak, and extended the olive-branch of peace.

"Now we'll all be good, and plan nice things for poor Mac," she said,
smiling so graciously that the boys felt as if the sun had suddenly
burst out from behind a heavy cloud and was shining with great
brilliancy.

The storm had cleared the air, and quite a heavenly calm succeeded,
during which plans of a most varied and surprising sort were laid, for
every one burned to make noble sacrifices upon the shrine of "poor Mac,"
and Rose was the guiding star to whom the others looked with most
gratifying submission. Of course, this elevated state of things could
not endure long, but it was _very_ nice while it lasted, and left an
excellent effect upon the minds of all when the first ardor had
subsided.

"There, that's ready for to-morrow, and I do hope it will be cloudy,"
said Rose, as she finished off the new shade, the progress of which the
boys had watched with interest.

"I'd bespoken an extra sunny day, but I'll tell the clerk of the weather
to change it. He's an obliging fellow, and he'll attend to it; so make
yourself easy," said Charlie, who had become quite perky again.

"It is very easy for you to joke, but how would you like to wear a
blinder like that for weeks and weeks, sir?" and Rose quenched his
rising spirits by slipping the shade over his eyes, as he still sat on
the cushion at her feet.

"It's horrid! Take it off, take it off! I don't wonder the poor old boy
has the blues with a thing like that on;" and Charlie sat looking at
what seemed to him an instrument of torture, with such a sober face that
Rose took it gently away, and went in to bid Mac good-night.

"I shall go home with her, for it is getting darkish, and she is rather
timid," said Archie, forgetting that he had often laughed at this very
timidity.

"I think _I_ might, for she's taking care of my brother," put in Steve,
asserting his rights.

"Let's all go; that will please her," proposed Charlie, with a burst of
gallantry which electrified his mates.

"We will!" they said with one voice, and they did, to Rose's great
surprise and secret contentment; though Archie had all the care of her,
for the other two were leaping fences, running races, and having
wrestling matches all the way down.

They composed themselves on reaching the door, however; shook hands
cordially all round, made their best bows, and retired with great
elegance and dignity, leaving Rose to say to herself, with girlish
satisfaction, as she went in,--

"Now, _that_ is the way I like to be treated."




CHAPTER XIII.

_COSEY CORNER._


VACATION was over, the boys went back to school, and poor Mac was left
lamenting. He was out of the darkened room now, and promoted to blue
goggles, through which he took a gloomy view of life, as might have been
expected; for there was nothing he could do but wander about, and try to
amuse himself without using his eyes. Any one who has ever been
condemned to that sort of idleness knows how irksome it is, and can
understand the state of mind which caused Mac to say to Rose in a
desperate tone one day,--

"Look here, if you don't invent some new employment or amusement for me,
I shall knock myself on the head as sure as you live."

Rose flew to Uncle Alec for advice, and he ordered both patient and
nurse to the mountains for a month, with Aunt Jessie and Jamie as
escort. Pokey and her mother joined the party, and one bright September
morning six very happy-looking people were aboard the express train for
Portland,--two smiling mammas, laden with luncheon baskets and wraps; a
pretty young girl with a bag of books on her arm; a tall, thin lad with
his hat over his eyes; and two small children, who sat with their short
legs straight out before them, and their chubby faces beaming with the
first speechless delight of "truly travelling."

An especially splendid sunset seemed to have been prepared to welcome
them when, after a long day's journey, they drove into a wide, green
door-yard, where a white colt, a red cow, two cats, four kittens, many
hens, and a dozen people, old and young, were gayly disporting
themselves. Every one nodded and smiled in the friendliest manner, and a
lively old lady kissed the new-comers all round, as she said heartily,--

"Well, now, I'm proper glad to see you! Come right in and rest, and
we'll have tea in less than no time, for you must be tired. Lizzie, you
show the folks upstairs; Kitty, you fly round and help father in with
the trunks; and Jenny and I will have the table all ready by the time
you come down. Bless the dears, they want to go see the pussies, and so
they shall!"

The three pretty daughters did "fly round," and every one felt at home
at once, all were so hospitable and kind. Aunt Jessie had raptures over
the home-made carpets, quilts, and quaint furniture; Rose could not keep
away from the windows, for each framed a lovely picture; and the little
folks made friends at once with the other children, who filled their
arms with chickens and kittens, and did the honors handsomely.

The toot of a horn called all to supper, and a goodly party, including
six children besides the Campbells, assembled in the long dining-room,
armed with mountain appetites and the gayest spirits. It was impossible
for any one to be shy or sober, for such gales of merriment arose they
blew the starch out of the stiffest, and made the saddest jolly. Mother
Atkinson, as all called their hostess, was the merriest there, and the
busiest; for she kept flying up to wait on the children, to bring out
some new dish, or to banish the live stock, who were of such a social
turn that the colt came into the entry and demanded sugar; the cats sat
about in people's laps, winking suggestively at the food; and speckled
hens cleared the kitchen floor of crumbs, as they joined in the chat
with a cheerful clucking.

Everybody turned out after tea to watch the sunset till all the lovely
red was gone, and mosquitoes wound their shrill horns to sound the
retreat. The music of an organ surprised the new-comers, and in the
parlor they found Father Atkinson playing sweetly on the little
instrument made by himself. All the children gathered about him, and,
led by the tuneful sisters, sang prettily till Pokey fell asleep behind
the door, and Jamie gaped audibly right in the middle of his favorite,--

    "Coo," said the little doves: "Coo," said she,
    "All in the top of the old pine-tree."

The older travellers, being tired, went to "bye low" at the same time,
and slept like tops in home-spun sheets, on husk mattresses made by
Mother Atkinson, who seemed to have put some soothing powder among them,
so deep and sweet was the slumber that came.

Next day began the wholesome out-of-door life, which works such wonders
with tired minds and feeble bodies. The weather was perfect, and the
mountain air made the children as frisky as young lambs; while the
elders went about smiling at one another, and saying, "Isn't it
splendid?" Even Mac, the "slow coach," was seen to leap over a fence as
if he really could not help it; and when Rose ran after him with his
broad-brimmed hat, he made the spirited proposal to go into the woods
and hunt for a catamount.

Jamie and Pokey were at once enrolled in the Cosey Corner Light
Infantry,--a truly superb company, composed entirely of officers, all
wearing cocked hats, carrying flags, waving swords, or beating drums. It
was a spectacle to stir the dullest soul when this gallant band marched
out of the yard in full regimentals, with Captain Dove--a solemn,
big-headed boy of eleven--issuing his orders with the gravity of a
general, and his Falstaffian regiment obeying them with more docility
than skill. The little Snow children did very well, and Lieutenant Jack
Dove was fine to see; so was Drummer Frank, the errand-boy of the house,
as he rub-a-dub-dubbed with all his heart and drumsticks. Jamie had
"trained" before, and was made a colonel at once; but Pokey was the best
of all, and called forth a spontaneous burst of applause from the
spectators as she brought up the rear, her cocked hat all over one eye,
her flag trailing over her shoulder, and her wooden sword straight up in
the air; her face beaming and every curl bobbing with delight as her fat
legs tottered in the vain attempt to keep step manfully.

Mac and Rose were picking blackberries in the bushes beside the road
when the soldiers passed without seeing them, and they witnessed a sight
that was both pretty and comical. A little farther on was one of the
family burial spots so common in those parts, and just this side of it
Captain Fred Dove ordered his company to halt, explaining his reason for
so doing in the following words:--

"That's a graveyard, and it's proper to muffle the drums and lower the
flags as we go by, and we'd better take off our hats, too; it's more
respectable, I think."

"Isn't that cunning of the dears?" whispered Rose, as the little troop
marched slowly by to the muffled roll of the drums, every flag and sword
held low, all the little heads uncovered, and the childish faces very
sober as the leafy shadows flickered over them.

"Let's follow and see what they are after," proposed Mac, who found
sitting on a wall and being fed with blackberries luxurious but
tiresome.

So they followed and heard the music grow lively, saw the banners wave
in the breeze again when the graveyard was passed, and watched the
company file into the dilapidated old church that stood at the corner of
three woodland roads. Presently the sound of singing made the outsiders
quicken their steps, and, stealing up, they peeped in at one of the
broken windows.

Captain Dove was up in the old wooden pulpit, gazing solemnly down upon
his company, who, having stacked their arms in the porch, now sat in the
bare pews singing a Sunday-school hymn with great vigor and relish.

"Let us pray," said Captain Dove, with as much reverence as an army
chaplain; and, folding his hands, he repeated a prayer which he thought
all would know,--an excellent little prayer, but not exactly appropriate
to the morning, for it was,--

    "Now I lay me down to sleep."

Every one joined in saying it, and it was a pretty sight to see the
little creatures bowing their curly heads and lisping out the words they
knew so well. Tears came into Rose's eyes as she looked; Mac took his
hat off involuntarily, and then clapped it on again as if ashamed of
showing any feeling.

"Now I shall preach you a short sermon, and my text is, 'Little
children, love one another.' I asked mamma to give me one, and she
thought that would be good; so you all sit still and I'll preach it. You
mustn't whisper, Marion, but hear _me_. It means that we should be good
to each other, and play fair, and not quarrel as we did this very day
about the wagon. Jack can't always drive, and needn't be mad because I
like to go with Frank. Annette ought to be horse sometimes and not
always driver; and Willie may as well make up his mind to let Marion
build her house by his, for she _will_ do it, and he needn't fuss about
it. Jamie seems to be a good boy, but I shall preach to him if he isn't.
No, Pokey, people don't kiss in church or put their hats on. Now you
must all remember what I tell you, because I'm the captain, and you
should mind me."

Here Lieutenant Jack spoke right out in meeting with the rebellious
remark,--

"Don't care if you are; you'd better mind yourself, and tell how you
took away my strap, and kept the biggest doughnut, and didn't draw fair
when we had the truck."

"Yes, and you slapped Frank; I saw you," bawled Willie Snow, bobbing up
in his pew.

"And you took my book away and hid it 'cause I wouldn't go and swing
when you wanted me to," added Annette, the oldest of the Snow trio.

"I _shan't_ build my house by Willie's if he don't want me to, so now!"
put in little Marion, joining the mutiny.

"I _will_ tiss Dimmy! and I tored up my hat 'tause a pin picked me,"
shouted Pokey, regardless of Jamie's efforts to restrain her.

Captain Dove looked rather taken aback at this outbreak in the ranks;
but, being a dignified and calm personage, he quelled the rising
rebellion with great tact and skill by saying, briefly,--

"We will sing the last hymn; 'Sweet, sweet good-by,'--you all know that,
so do it nicely, and then we will go and have luncheon."

Peace was instantly restored, and a burst of melody drowned the
suppressed giggles of Rose and Mac, who found it impossible to keep
sober during the latter part of this somewhat remarkable service.
Fifteen minutes of repose rendered it a physical impossibility for the
company to march out as quietly as they had marched in. I grieve to
state that the entire troop raced home as hard as they could pelt, and
were soon skirmishing briskly over their lunch, utterly oblivious of
what Jamie (who had been much impressed by the sermon) called "the
captain's beautiful teck."

It was astonishing how much they all found to do at Cosey Corner; and
Mac, instead of lying in a hammock and being read to, as he had
expected, was busiest of all. He was invited to survey and lay out
Skeeterville, a town which the children were getting up in a huckleberry
pasture; and he found much amusement in planning little roads, staking
off house-lots, attending to the water-works, and consulting with the
"selectmen" about the best sites for public buildings; for Mac was a boy
still, in spite of his fifteen years and his love of books.

Then he went fishing with a certain jovial gentleman from the West; and
though they seldom caught any thin

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