The old glove lay upon the floor forgotten, while Rose sat musing, till a quick step sounded in the hall, and a voice drew near tunefully humming.
"As he was walkin' doun the streetThe city for to view,Oh, there he spied a bonny lass,The window lookin' through.""Sae licht he jumpèd up the stair,And tirled at the pin;Oh, wha sae ready as hersel'To let the laddie in?"
"As he was walkin' doun the streetThe city for to view,Oh, there he spied a bonny lass,The window lookin' through."
"Sae licht he jumpèd up the stair,And tirled at the pin;Oh, wha sae ready as hersel'To let the laddie in?"
sung Rose, as the voice paused and a tap came at the door.
"Good morning, Rosamunda; here are your letters, and your most devoted ready to execute any commissions you may have for him," was Charlie's greeting, as he came in looking comely, gay, and debonair as usual.
"Thanks: I've no errands unless you mail my replies, if these need answering; so by your leave, Prince," and Rose began to open the handful of notes he threw into her lap.
"Ha! what sight is this to blast mine eyes?" ejaculated Charlie, as he pointed to the glove with a melodramaticstart; for, like most accomplished amateur actors, he was fond of introducing private theatricals into his "daily walk and conversation."
"Uncle left it."
"'Tis well; methought perchance a rival had been here," and, picking it up, Charlie amused himself with putting it on the head of a little Psyche, which ornamented the mantle-piece, humming, as he did so, another verse of the old song,—
"He set his Jenny on his knee,All in his Highland dress;For brawly well he kenned the wayTo please a bonny lass."
"He set his Jenny on his knee,All in his Highland dress;For brawly well he kenned the wayTo please a bonny lass."
Rose went on reading her letters, but all the while was thinking of her conversation with her uncle, and something else, suggested by the newcomer and his ditty.
During the three months since her return, she had seen more of this cousin than any of the others; for he seemed to be the only one who had leisure to "play with Rose," as they used to say years ago. The other boys were all at work, even little Jamie, many of whose play hours were devoted to manful struggles with Latin grammar, the evil genius of his boyish life. Dr. Alec had many affairs to arrange after his long absence; Phebe was busy with her music; and Aunt Plenty still actively superintended her housekeeping. Thus it fell out, quite naturally, that Charlie should form the habit of lounging in at all hours with letters,messages, bits of news, and agreeable plans for Rose. He helped her with her sketching, rode with her, sung with her, and took her to parties, as a matter of course; for Aunt Clara, being the gayest of the sisters, played chaperon on all occasions.
For a time it was very pleasant; but, by and by, Rose began to wish Charlie would find something to do like the rest, and not make dawdling after her the business of his life. The family were used to his self-indulgent ways: and there was an amiable delusion in the minds of the boys that he had a right to the best of every thing; for to them he was still the Prince, the flower of the flock, and in time to be an honor to the name. No one exactly knew how: for, though full of talent, he seemed to have no especial gift or bias; and the elders began to shake their heads, because, in spite of many grand promises and projects, the moment for decisive action never came.
Rose saw all this, and longed to inspire her brilliant cousin with some manful purpose, which should win for him respect as well as admiration. But she found it very hard: for, though he listened with imperturbable good humor, and owned his shortcomings with delightful frankness, he always had some argument, reason, or excuse to offer, and out-talked her in five minutes; leaving her silenced, but unconvinced.
Of late she had observed that he seemed to feel as if her time and thoughts belonged exclusively to him, and rather resented the approach of any other claimant.This annoyed her, and suggested the idea that her affectionate interest and efforts were misunderstood by him, misrepresented and taken advantage of by Aunt Clara, who had been most urgent that she should "use her influence with the dear boy," though the fond mother resented all other interference. This troubled Rose, and made her feel as if caught in a snare; for, while she owned to herself that Charlie was the most attractive of her cousins, she was not ready to be taken possession of in this masterful way, especially since other and sometimes better men sought her favor more humbly.
These thoughts were floating vaguely in her mind as she read her letters, and unconsciously influenced her in the chat that followed.
"Only invitations, and I can't stop to answer them now, or I shall never get through this job," she said, returning to her work.
"Let me help. You do up, and I'll direct. Have a secretary; do now, and see what a comfort it will be," proposed Charlie, who could turn his hand to any thing, and had made himself quite at home in the sanctum.
"I'd rather finish this myself, but you may answer the notes if you will. Just regrets to all but two or three. Read the names as you go along, and I'll tell you which."
"To hear is to obey. Who says I'm a 'frivolous idler' now?" and Charlie sat down at the writingtable with alacrity; for these hours in the little room were his best and happiest.
"Order is heaven's first law, and the view a lovely one, but Idon'tsee any note-paper," he added, opening the desk and surveying its contents with interest.
"Right-hand drawer: violet monogram for the notes; plain paper for the business letter. I'll see to that, though," answered Rose, trying to decide whether Annabel or Emma should have the laced handkerchief.
"Confiding creature! Suppose I open the wrong drawer, and come upon the tender secrets of your soul?" continued the new secretary, rummaging out the delicate note-paper with masculine disregard of order.
"I haven't got any," answered Rose, demurely.
"What, not one despairing scrawl, one cherished miniature, one faded floweret, etc., etc.? I can't believe it, cousin," and he shook his head incredulously.
"If I had, I certainly should not show them to you, impertinent person! Therearea few little souvenirs in that desk, but nothing very sentimental or interesting."
"How I'd like to see 'em! But I should never dare to ask," observed Charlie, peering over the top of the half-open lid with a most persuasive pair of eyes.
"You may if you want to, but you'll be disappointed, Paul Pry. Lower left-hand drawer with the key in it."
"'Angel of goodness, how shall I requite thee? Interesting moment, with what palpitating emotions art thou fraught!'" and, quoting from the "Mysteries of Udolpho," he unlocked and opened the drawer with a tragic gesture.
"Seven locks of hair in a box, all light; for 'here's your straw color, your orange tawny, your French crown color, and your perfect yellow' Shakspeare. They look very familiar, and I fancy I know the heads they thatched."
"Yes, you all gave me one when I went away, you know; and I carried them round the world with me in that very box."
"I wish the heads had gone too. Here's a jolly little amber god, with a gold ring in his back and a most balmy breath," continued Charlie, taking a long sniff at the scent-bottle.
"Uncle brought me that long ago, and I'm very fond of it."
"This now looks suspicious,—a man's ring with a lotus cut on the stone and a note attached. I tremble as I ask, Who, when, and where?"
"A gentleman, on my birthday, in Calcutta."
"I breathe again: it was my sire?"
"Don't be absurd. Of course it was, and he did every thing to make my visit pleasant. I wish you'd go and see him like a dutiful son, instead of idling here."
"That's what Uncle Mac is eternally telling me;but I don't intend to be lectured into the tread-mill till I've had my fling first," muttered Charlie, rebelliously.
"If you fling yourself in the wrong direction, you may find it hard to get back again," began Rose, gravely.
"No fear, if you look after me as you seem to have promised to do, judging by the thanks you get in this note. Poor old governor! Ishouldlike to see him; for it's almost four years since he came home last, and he must be getting on."
Charlie was the only one of the boys who ever called his father "governor:" perhaps because the others knew and loved their fathers, while he had seen so little of his that the less respectful name came more readily to his lips; since the elder man seemed in truth a governor issuing requests or commands, which the younger too often neglected or resented.
Long ago Rose had discovered that Uncle Stephen found home made so distasteful by his wife's devotion to society, that he preferred to exile himself, taking business as an excuse for his protracted absences.
The girl was thinking of this, as she watched her cousin turn the ring about with a sudden sobriety which became him well; and, believing that the moment was propitious, she said earnestly,—
"Heisgetting on. Dear Charlie, do think of duty more than pleasure in this case, and I'm sure you never will regret it."
"Doyouwant me to go?" he asked quickly.
"I think you ought."
"And I think you'd be much more charming if you wouldn't always be worrying about right and wrong! Uncle Alec taught you that along with the rest of his queer notions."
"I'm glad he did!" cried Rose, warmly; then checked herself, and said with a patient sort of sigh, "You know women always want the men they care for to be good, and can't help trying to make them so."
"So they do; and we ought to be a set of angels: but I've a strong conviction that, if we were, the dear souls wouldn't like us half as well. Would they now?" asked Charlie, with an insinuating smile.
"Perhaps not; but that is dodging the point. Will you go?" persisted Rose, unwisely.
"No, I will not."
That was sufficiently decided; and an uncomfortable pause followed, during which Rose tied a knot unnecessarily tight, and Charlie went on exploring the drawer with more energy than interest.
"Why, here's an old thing I gave you ages ago!" he suddenly exclaimed in a pleased tone, holding up a little agate heart on a faded blue ribbon. "Will you let me take away the heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh?" he asked, half in earnest, half in jest, touched by the little trinket and the recollections it awakened.
"No, I will not," answered Rose, bluntly, much displeased by the irreverent and audacious question.
Charlie looked rather abashed for a moment; but his natural light-heartedness made it easy for him to get the better of his own brief fits of waywardness, and put others in good humor with him and themselves.
"Now we are even: let's drop the subject and start afresh," he said with irresistible affability, as he coolly put the little heart in his pocket, and prepared to shut the drawer. But something caught his eye, and exclaiming, "What's this? what's this?" he snatched up a photograph which lay half under a pile of letters with foreign post-marks.
"Oh! I forgot that was there," said Rose, hastily.
"Who is the man?" demanded Charlie, eying the good-looking countenance before him with a frown.
"That is the Honorable Gilbert Murry, who went up the Nile with us, and shot crocodiles and other small deer, being a mighty hunter, as I told you in my letters," answered Rose gayly, though ill-pleased at the little discovery just then; for this had been one of the narrow escapes her uncle spoke of.
"And they haven't eaten him yet, I infer from that pile of letters?" said Charlie, jealously.
"I hope not. His sister did not mention it when she wrote last."
"Ah! then she is your correspondent? Sisters are dangerous things sometimes." And Charlie eyed the packet suspiciously.
"In this case, a very convenient thing; for she tells me all about her brother's wedding as no one else would take the trouble to do."
"Oh! well, if he's married, I don't care a straw about him. I fancied I'd found out why you are such a hard-hearted charmer. But, if there is no secret idol, I'm all at sea again." And Charlie tossed the photograph into the drawer, as if it no longer interested him.
"I'm hard-hearted because I'm particular, and, as yet, do not find any one at all to my taste."
"No one?" with a tender glance.
"No one," with a rebellious blush, and the truthful addition, "I see much to admire and like in many persons, but none quite strong and good enough to suit me. My heroes are old-fashioned, you know."
"Prigs, like Guy Carleton, Count Altenberg, and John Halifax: I know the pattern you goody girls like," sneered Charlie, who preferred the Guy Livingston, Beauclerc, and Rochester style.
"Then I'm not a 'goody girl,' for I don't like prigs. I want a gentleman in the best sense of the word, and I can wait; for I've seen one, and know there are more in the world."
"The deuce you have! Do I know him?" asked Charlie, much alarmed.
"You think you do," answered Rose, with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.
"If it isn't Pem, I give it up. He is the best-bred fellow I know."
"Oh, dear, no! far superior to Mr. Pemberton, and many years older," said Rose, with so much respect that Charlie looked perplexed as well as anxious.
"Some apostolic minister, I fancy. You pious creatures always like to adore a parson. But all we know are married."
"He isn't."
"Give a name, for pity's sake: I'm suffering tortures of suspense," begged Charlie.
"Alexander Campbell."
"Uncle? Well, upon my word, that's a relief, but mighty absurd all the same. So, when you find a young saint of that sort, you intend to marry him, do you?" demanded Charlie, much amused and rather disappointed.
"When I find any man half as honest, good, and noble as uncle, I shall be proud to marry him, if he asks me," answered Rose, decidedly.
"What odd tastes women have!" And Charlie leaned his chin on his hand, to muse pensively for a moment over the blindness of one woman who could admire an excellent old uncle more than a dashing young cousin.
Rose, meanwhile, tied up her parcels industriously, hoping she had not been too severe; for it was very hard to lecture Charlie, though he seemed to like it sometimes, and came to confession voluntarily, knowing that women love to forgive when the sinners are of his sort.
"It will be mail-time before you are done," she said presently; for silence was less pleasant than his rattle.
Charlie took the hint, and dashed off several notes in his best manner. Coming to the business-letter, he glanced at it, and asked, with a puzzled expression,—
"What is all this? Cost of repairs, &c., from a man named Buffum?"
"Never mind that: I'll see to it by and by."
"But I do mind, for I'm interested in all your affairs; and, though you think I've no head for business, you'll find I have, if you'll try me."
"This is only about my two old houses in the city, which are being repaired and altered so that the rooms can be let singly."
"Going to make tenement-houses of them? Well, that's not a bad idea: such places pay well, I've heard."
"That is just what I'mnotgoing to do. I wouldn't have a tenement-house on my conscience for a million of dollars,—not as they are now," said Rose, decidedly.
"Why, what doyouknow about it, except that poor people live in them, and the owners turn a penny on the rents?"
"I know a good deal about them; for I've seen many such, both here and abroad. It was not all pleasure with us, I assure you. Uncle was interested in hospitals and prisons, and I sometimes went with him: but they made me sad; so he suggested othercharities, that I could help about when we came home. I visited Infant Schools, Working-women's Homes, Orphan Asylums, and places of that sort. You don't know how much good it did me, and how glad I am that I have the means of lightening a little some of the misery in the world."
"But, my dear girl, you needn't make ducks and drakes of your fortune trying to feed and cure and clothe all the poor wretches you see. Give, of course: every one should do something in that line, and no one likes it better than I. But don't, for mercy's sake, go at it as some women do, and get so desperately earnest, practical, and charity-mad that there is no living in peace with you," protested Charlie, looking alarmed at the prospect.
"You can do as you please.Iintend to do all the good I can by asking the advice and following the example of the most 'earnest,' 'practical,' and 'charitable' people I know: so, if you don't approve, you can drop my acquaintance," answered Rose, emphasizing the obnoxious words, and assuming the resolute air she always wore when defending her hobbies.
"You'll be laughed at."
"I'm used to that."
"And criticised and shunned."
"Not by people whose opinion I value."
"Women shouldn't go poking into such places."
"I've been taught that they should."
"Well, you'll get some dreadful disease and loseyour beauty, and then where are you?" added Charlie, thinking that might daunt the young philanthropist.
But it did not; for Rose answered, with a sudden kindling of the eyes as she remembered her talk with Uncle Alec,—
"I shouldn't like it: but there would be one satisfaction in it; for, when I'd lost my beauty and given away my money, I should know who really cared for me."
Charlie nibbled his pen in silence for a moment, then asked, meekly,—
"Could I respectfully inquire what great reform is to be carried on in the old houses which their amiable owner is repairing?"
"I am merely going to make them comfortable homes for poor but respectable women to live in. There is a class who cannot afford to pay much, yet suffer a great deal from being obliged to stay in noisy, dirty, crowded places like tenement-houses and cheap lodgings. I can help a few of them, and I'm going to try."
"May I humbly ask if these decayed gentlewomen are to inhabit their palatial retreat rent-free?"
"That was my first plan; but uncle showed me that it was wiser not to make genteel paupers of them, but let them pay a small rent and feel independent. I don't want the money of course, and shall use it in keeping the houses tidy, or helping other women in like case," said Rose, entirely ignoring her cousin's covert ridicule.
"Don't expect any gratitude, for you won't get it; nor much comfort with a lot of forlornities on your hands; and be sure that when it is too late you will tire of it all, and wish you had done as other people do."
"Thanks for your cheerful prophecies; but I think I'll venture."
She looked so undaunted that Charlie was a little nettled, and fired his last shot rather recklessly,—
"Well, one thing I do know: you'll never get a husband if you go on in this absurd way; and, by Jove! you need one to take care of you and keep the property together!"
Rose had a temper, but seldom let it get the better of her; now, however, it flashed up for a moment. Those last words were peculiarly unfortunate, because Aunt Clara had used them more than once, when warning her against impecunious suitors and generous projects. She was disappointed in her cousin, annoyed at having her little plans laughed at, and indignant with him for his final suggestion.
"I'll never have one, if I must give up the liberty of doing what I know is right; and I'd rather go into the poor-house to-morrow than 'keep the property together' in the selfish way you mean!"
That was all: but Charlie saw that he had gone too far, and hastened to make his peace with the skill of a lover; for, turning to the little cabinet piano behind him, he sung in his best style the sweet old song,—
"Oh were thou in the cauld blast,"
dwelling with great effect, not only upon the tender assurance that
"My plaid should shelter thee,"
"My plaid should shelter thee,"
but also that, even if a king,
"The brightest jewel in my crownWad be my queen, wad be my queen."
"The brightest jewel in my crownWad be my queen, wad be my queen."
It was very evident that Prince Charming had not gone troubadouring in vain; for Orpheus himself could not have restored harmony more successfully. The tuneful apology was accepted with a forgiving smile, and a frank,—
"I'm sorry I was cross; but you haven't forgotten how to tease, and I'm rather out of sorts to-day. Late hours don't agree with me."
"Then you won't feel like going to Mrs. Hope's to-morrow night, I'm afraid," and Charlie took up the last note with an expression of regret which was very flattering.
"I must go, because it is made for me; but I can come away early, and make up lost sleep. I do hate to be so fractious," and Rose rubbed the forehead that ached with too much racketing.
"But the German does not begin till late: I'm to lead, and depend upon you. Just stay this once to oblige me," pleaded Charlie; for he had set his heart on distinguishing himself.
"No: I promised uncle to be temperate in my pleasures, and I must keep my word. I'm so well now, it would be very foolish to get ill and make him anxious: not to mention losing my beauty, as you are good enough to call it; for that depends on health, you know."
"But the fun doesn't begin till after supper. Every thing will be delightful, I assure you; and we'll have a gay old time as we did last week at Emma's."
"Then I certainly will not; for I'm ashamed of myself when I remember what a romp that was, and how sober uncle looked, as he let me in at three in the morning, all fagged out; my dress in rags, my head aching, my feet so tired I could hardly stand, and nothing to show for five hours' hard work but a pocketful of bonbons, artificial flowers, and tissue-paper fool's-caps. Uncle said I'd better put one on and go to bed; for I looked as if I'd been to a French Bal Masqué. I never want to hear him say so again, and I'll never let dawn catch me out in such a plight any more."
"You were all right enough; for mother didn't object, and I got you both home before daylight. Uncle is notional about such things, so I shouldn't mind; for we had a jolly time, and we were none the worse for it."
"Indeed we were, every one of us! Aunt Clara hasn't got over her cold yet; I slept all the next day; and you looked like a ghost, for you'd been out every night for weeks, I think."
"Oh, nonsense! every one does it during the season, and you'll get used to the pace very soon," began Charlie, bent on making her go; for he was in his element in a ballroom, and never happier than when he had his pretty cousin on his arm.
"Ah! but I don't want to get used to it; for it costs too much in the end. I don't wish to get used to being whisked about a hot room by men who have taken too much wine; to turn day into night, wasting time that might be better spent; and grow into a fashionable fast girl who can't get on without excitement. I don't deny that much of it is pleasant, but don't try to make me too fond of gayety. Help me to resist what I know is hurtful, and please don't laugh me out of the good habits uncle has tried so hard to give me."
Rose was quite sincere in her appeal, and Charlie knew she was right: but he always found it hard to give up any thing he had set his heart upon, no matter how trivial; for the maternal indulgence which had harmed the boy had fostered the habit of self-indulgence which was ruining the man. So when Rose looked up at him, with a very honest desire to save him as well as herself from being swept into the giddy vortex which keeps so many young people revolving aimlessly, till they go down or are cast upon the shore wrecks of what they might have been, he gave a shrug and answered briefly,—
"As you please. I'll bring you home as early asyou like, and Effie Waring can take your place in the German. What flowers shall I send you?"
Now, that was an artful speech of Charlie's; for Miss Waring was a fast and fashionable damsel, who openly admired Prince Charming, and had given him the name. Rose disliked her, and was sure her influence was bad; for youth made frivolity forgivable, wit hid want of refinement, and beauty always covers a multitude of sins in a man's eyes. At the sound of Effie's name, Rose wavered, and would have yielded but for the memory of the "first mate's" last words. She did desire to "keep a straight course;" so, though the current of impulse set strongly in a southerly direction, principle, the only compass worth having, pointed due north, and she tried to obey it like a wise young navigator, saying steadily, while she directed to Annabel the parcel containing a capacious pair of slippers intended for Uncle Mac,—
"Don't trouble yourself about me. I can go with uncle, and slip away without disturbing anybody."
"I don't believe you'll have the heart to do it," said Charlie, incredulously, as he sealed the last note.
"Wait and see."
"I will, but shall hope to the last," and, kissing his hand to her, he departed to post her letters, quite sure that Miss Waring would not lead the German.
It certainly looked for a moment as if Miss Campbellwould, because she ran to the door with the words "I'll go" upon her lips. But she did not open it tillshe had stood a minute staring hard at the old glove on Psyche's head; then, like one who had suddenly got a bright idea, she gave a decided nod and walked slowly out of the room.
"Please could I say one word?" was the question three times repeated before a rough head bobbed out from the grotto of books in which Mac usually sat when he studied.
"Did any one speak?" he asked, blinking in the flood of sunshine that entered with Rose.
"Only three times, thank you. Don't disturb yourself, I beg; for I merely want to say a word," answered Rose, as she prevented him from offering the easy-chair in which he sat.
"I was rather deep in a compound fracture, and didn't hear. What can I do for you, cousin?" and Mac shoved a stack of pamphlets off the chair near him, with a hospitable wave of the hand that sent his papers flying in all directions.
Rose sat down, but did not seem to find her "word" an easy one to utter; for she twisted her handkerchiefabout her fingers in embarrassed silence, till Mac put on his glasses, and, after a keen look, asked soberly,—
"Is it a splinter, a cut, or a whitlow, ma'am?"
"It is neither; do forget your tiresome surgery for a minute, and be the kindest cousin that ever was," answered Rose, beginning rather sharply and ending with her most engaging smile.
"Can't promise in the dark," said the wary youth.
"It is a favor, a great favor, and one I don't choose to ask any of the other boys," answered the artful damsel.
Mac looked pleased, and leaned forward, saying more affably,—
"Name it, and be sure I'll grant it if I can."
"Go with me to Mrs. Hope's party to-morrow night."
"What!" and Mac recoiled as if she had put a pistol to his head.
"I've left you in peace a long time: but it is your turn now; so do your duty like a man and a cousin."
"But I never go to parties!" cried the unhappy victim in great dismay.
"High time you began, sir."
"But I don't dance fit to be seen."
"I'll teach you."
"My dress-coat isn't decent, I know."
"Archie will lend you one: he isn't going."
"I'm afraid there's a lecture that I ought not to cut."
"No, there isn't: I asked uncle."
"I'm always so tired and dull in the evening."
"This sort of thing is just what you want to rest and freshen up your spirits."
Mac gave a groan and fell back vanquished; for it was evident that escape was impossible.
"What put such a perfectly wild idea into your head?" he demanded, rather roughly; for hitherto hehadbeen "left in peace," and this sudden attack decidedly amazed him.
"Sheer necessity; but don't do it if it is so very dreadful to you. I must go to several more parties, because they are made for me; but after that I'll refuse, and then no one need be troubled with me."
Something in Rose's voice made Mac answer penitently, even while he knit his brows in perplexity,—
"I didn't mean to be rude; and of course I'll go anywhere if I'm really needed. But I don't understand where the sudden necessity is, with three other fellows at command, all better dancers and beaux than I am."
"I don't want them, and I do want you; for I haven't the heart to drag uncle out any more, and you know I never go with any gentleman but those of my own family."
"Now look here, Rose: if Steve has been doing any thing to tease you just mention it, and I'll attend to him," cried Mac, plainly seeing that something was amiss, and fancying that Dandy was at the bottom of it, as he had done escort duty several times lately.
"No, Steve has been very good: but I know he had rather be with Kitty Van; so of course I feel like a marplot, though he is too polite to hint it."
"What a noodle that boy is! But there's Archie: he's as steady as a church, and has no sweetheart to interfere," continued Mac, bound to get at the truth, and half suspecting what it was.
"He is on his feet all day, and Aunt Jessie wants him in the evening. He does not care for dancing as he used, and I suppose he really does prefer to rest and read." Rose might have added, "and hear Phebe sing;" for Phebe did not go out as much as Rose did, and Aunt Jessie often came in to sit with the old lady when the young folks were away; and, of course, dutiful Archie came with her; so willingly of late!
"What's amiss with Charlie? I thoughthewas the prince of cavaliers. Annabel says he dances 'like an angel,' and I know a dozen mothers couldn't keep him at home of an evening. Have you had a tiff with Adonis, and so fall back on poor me?" asked Mac, coming last to the person of whom he thought first, but did not mention, feeling shy about alluding to a subject often discussed behind her back.
"Yes, we have; and I don't intend to go with him any more for some time. His ways do not suit me, and mine do not suit him; so I want to be quite independent, and you can help me if you will," said Rose, rather nervously spinning the big globe close by.
Mac gave a low whistle, looking wide awake all in aminute, as he said with a gesture, as if he brushed a cobweb off his face,—
"Now, see here, cousin: I'm not good at mysteries, and shall only blunder if you put me blindfold into any nice manœuvre. Just tell me straight out what you want, and I'll do it if I can. Play I'm uncle, and free your mind; come now."
He spoke so kindly, and the honest eyes were so full of merry good-will, that Rose felt she might confide in him, and answered as frankly as he could desire,—
"You are right, Mac; and I don't mind talking to you almost as freely as to uncle, because you are such a reliable fellow, and won't think me silly for trying to do what I believe to be right. Charlie does, and so makes it hard for me to hold to my resolutions. I want to keep early hours, dress simply, and behave properly; no matter what fashionable people do. You will agree to that, I'm sure; and stand by me through thick and thin for principle's sake."
"I will; and begin by showing you that I understand the case. I don't wonder you are not pleased; for Charlie is too presuming, and you do need some one to help you head him off a bit. Hey, cousin?"
"What a way to put it!" and Rose laughed in spite of herself, adding with an air of relief, "Thatisit; and I do want some one to help me make him understand that I don't choose to be taken possession of in that lordly way, as if I belonged to him more than to the rest of the family. I don't like it; forpeople begin to talk, and Charlie won't see how disagreeable it is to me."
"Tell him so," was Mac's blunt advice.
"I have; but he only laughs and promises to behave, and then he does it again, when I am so placed that I can't say any thing. You will never understand, and I cannot explain; for it is only a look, or a word, or some little thing: but I won't have it, and the best way to cure him is to put it out of his power to annoy me so."
"He is a great flirt, and wants to teach you how, I suppose. I'll speak to him if you like, and tell him you don't want to learn. Shall I?" asked Mac, finding the case rather an interesting one.
"No, thank you: that would only make trouble. If you will kindly play escort a few times, it will show Charlie that I am in earnest without more words, and put a stop to the gossip," said Rose, coloring like a poppy at the recollection of what she heard one young man whisper to another, as Charlie led her through a crowded supper-room with his most devoted air, "Lucky dog! he is sure to get the heiress, and we are nowhere."
"There's no danger of people's gossiping about us, is there?" and Mac looked up, with the oddest of all his odd expressions.
"Of course not: you're only a boy."
"I'm twenty-one, thank you; and Prince is but a couple of years older," said Mac, promptly resenting the slight put upon his manhood.
"Yes; but he is like other young men, while you are a dear old bookworm. No one would ever mind whatyoudid; so you may go to parties with me every night, and not a word would be said; or, if there was, I shouldn't mind since it is 'only Mac,'" answered Rose, smiling as she quoted a household word often used to excuse his vagaries.
"ThenIam nobody?" lifting his brows, as if the discovery surprised and rather nettled him.
"Nobody in society as yet; but my very best cousin in private, and I've just proved my regard by making you my confidant, and choosing you for my knight," said Rose, hastening to soothe the feelings her careless words seemed to have ruffled slightly.
"Much goodthatis likely to do me," grumbled Mac.
"You ungrateful boy, not to appreciate the honor I've conferred upon you! I know a dozen who would be proud of the place: but you only care for compound fractures; so I won't detain you any longer, except to ask if I may consider myself provided with an escort for to-morrow night?" said Rose, a trifle hurt at his indifference; for she was not used to refusals.
"If I may hope for the honor," and, rising, he made her a bow which was such a capital imitation of Charlie's grand manner that she forgave him at once, exclaiming with amused surprise,—
"Why, Mac! I didn't know youcouldbe so elegant!"
"A fellow can be almost any thing he likes, if he tries hard enough," he answered, standing very straight, and looking so tall and dignified that Rose was quite impressed, and with a stately courtesy she retired, saying graciously,—
"I accept with thanks. Good-morning, Doctor Alexander Mackenzie Campbell."
When Friday evening came, and word was sent up that her escort had arrived, Rose ran down, devoutly hoping that he had not come in a velveteen jacket, top-boots, black gloves, or made any trifling mistake of that sort. A young gentleman was standing before the long mirror, apparently intent on the arrangement of his hair; and Rose paused suddenly as her eye went from the glossy broadcloth to the white-gloved hands, busy with an unruly lock that would not stay in place.
"Why, Charlie, I thought—" she began with an accent of surprise in her voice, but got no further; for the gentleman turned and she beheld Mac in immaculate evening costume, with his hair parted sweetly on his brow, a superior posy at his button-hole, and the expression of a martyr upon his face.
"Ah, don't you wish it was? No one but yourself to thank that it isn't he. Am I right? Dandy got me up, and he ought to know what is what," demanded Mac, folding his hands and standing as stiff as a ramrod.
"You are so regularly splendid that I don't know you."
"Neither do I."
"I really had no idea you could look so like a gentleman," added Rose, surveying him with great approval.
"Nor I that I could feel so like a fool."
"Poor boy! he does look rather miserable. What can I do to cheer him up, in return for the sacrifice he is making?"
"Stop calling me a boy. It will soothe my agony immensely, and give me courage to appear in a low-necked coat and a curl on my forehead; for I'm not used to such elegancies, and find them no end of a trial."
Mac spoke in such a pathetic tone, and gave such a gloomy glare at the aforesaid curl, that Rose laughed in his face, and added to his woe by handing him her cloak. He surveyed it gravely for a minute, then carefully put it on wrong side out, and gave the swan's-down hood a good pull over her head, to the utter destruction of all smoothness to the curls inside.
Rose uttered a cry and cast off the cloak, bidding him learn to do it properly, which he meekly did, and then led her down the hall without walking on her skirts more than three times by the way. But at the door she discovered that she had forgotten her furred overshoes, and bade Mac get them.
"Never mind: it's not wet," he said, pulling his cap over his eyes and plunging into his coat, regardless of the "elegancies" that afflicted him.
"But I can't walk on cold stones with thin slippers, can I?" began Rose, showing a little white foot.
"You needn't, for—there you are, my lady;" and, unceremoniously picking her up, Mac landed her in the carriage before she could say a word.
"What an escort!" she exclaimed in comic dismay, as she rescued her delicate dress from the rug in which he was about to tuck her up like a mummy.
"It's 'only Mac,' so don't mind," and he cast himself into an opposite corner, with the air of a man who had nerved himself to the accomplishment of many painful duties, and was bound to do them or die.
"But gentlemen don't catch up ladies like bags of meal, and poke them into carriages in this way. It is evident that you need looking after, and it is high time I undertook your society manners. Now, do mind what you are about, and don't get yourself or me into a scrape if you can help it," besought Rose, feeling that on many accounts she had gone farther and fared worse.
"I'll behave like a Turveydrop: see if I don't."
Mac's idea of the immortal Turveydrop's behavior seemed to be a peculiar one; for, after dancing once with his cousin, he left her to her own devices, and soon forgot all about her in a long conversation with Professor Stumph, the learned geologist. Rose did not care; for one dance proved to her that that branch of Mac's educationhadbeen sadly neglected, and she was glad to glide smoothly about with Steve, thoughhe was only an inch or two taller than herself. She had plenty of partners, however, and plenty of chaperons; for all the young men were her most devoted, and all the matrons beamed upon her with maternal benignity.
Charlie was not there; for when he found that Rose stood firm, and had moreover engaged Mac as a permanency, he would not go at all, and retired in high dudgeon to console himself with more dangerous pastimes. Rose feared it would be so; and, even in the midst of the gayety about her, an anxious mood came over her now and then, and made her thoughtful for a moment. She felt her power, and wanted to use it wisely; but did not know how to be kind to Charlie without being untrue to herself and giving him false hopes.
"I wish we were all children again, with no hearts to perplex us and no great temptations to try us," she said to herself, as she rested a moment in a quiet nook while her partner went to get a glass of water. Right in the midst of this half-sad, half-sentimental reverie, she heard a familiar voice behind her say earnestly,—
"And allophite is the new hydrous silicate of alumina and magnesia, much resembling pseudophite, which Websky found in Silesia."
"WhatisMac talking about!" she thought: and, peeping behind a great azalea in full bloom, she saw her cousin in deep converse with the professor, evidently having a capital time; for his face had lost itsmelancholy expression and was all alive with interest, while the elder man was listening as if his remarks were both intelligent and agreeable.
"What is it?" asked Steve, coming up with the water, and seeing a smile on Rose's face.
She pointed out the scientifictête-à-têtegoing on behind the azalea, and Steve grinned as he peeped, then grew sober and said in a tone of despair,—
"If you had seen the pains I took with that fellow, the patience with which I brushed his wig, the time I spent trying to convince him that he must wear thin boots, and the fight I had to get him into that coat; you'd understand my feelings when I see him now."
"Why, what is the matter with him?" asked Rose.
"Will you take a look, and see what a spectacle he has made of himself. He'd better be sent home at once, or he will disgrace the family by looking as if he'd been in a row."
Steve spoke in such a tragic tone that Rose took another peep and did sympathize with Dandy; for Mac's elegance was quite gone. His tie was under one ear, his posy hung upside down, his gloves were rolled into a ball, which he absently squeezed and pounded as he talked, and his hair looked as if a whirlwind had passed over it; for his ten fingers set it on end now and then, as they had a habit of doing when he studied or talked earnestly. But he looked so happy and wide awake, in spite of his dishevelment, that Rose gave an approving nod, and said behind her fan,—
"Itisa trying spectacle, Steve: yet, on the whole, I think his own odd ways suit him best; and I fancy we shall yet be proud of him, for he knows more than all the rest of us put together. Hear that now," and Rose paused, that they might listen to the following burst of eloquence from Mac's lips:—
"You know Frenzel has shown that the globular forms of silicate of bismuth at Schneeburg and Johanngeorgenstadt are not isometric, but monoclinic in crystalline form; and consequently he separates them from the old eulytite, and gives them the new name Agricolite."
"Isn't it awful? Let us get out of this before there's another avalanche, or we shall be globular silicates and isometric crystals in spite of ourselves," whispered Steve with a panic-stricken air; and they fled from the hail-storm of hard words that rattled about their ears, leaving Mac to enjoy himself in his own way.
But when Rose was ready to go home, and looked about for her escort, he was nowhere to be seen; for the professor had departed, and Mac with him, so absorbed in some new topic that he entirely forgot his cousin, and went placidly home, still pondering on the charms of geology. When this pleasing fact dawned upon Rose, her feelings may be imagined. She was both angry and amused: it was so like Mac to go mooning off and leave her to her fate. Not a hard one, however; for, though Steve was gone withKitty before her flight was discovered, Mrs. Bliss was only too glad to take the deserted damsel under her wing, and bear her safely home.
Rose was warming her feet, and sipping the chocolate which Phebe always had ready for her, as she never ate suppers; when a hurried tap came at the long window whence the light streamed, and Mac's voice was heard softly asking to be let in "just for one minute."
Curious to know what had befallen him, Rose bade Phebe obey his call; and the delinquent cavalier appeared, breathless, anxious, and more dilapidated than ever: for he had forgotten his overcoat; his tie was at the back of his neck now; and his hair as rampantly erect as if all the winds of heaven had been blowing freely through it, as they had; for he had been tearing to and fro the last half-hour trying to undo the dreadful deed he had so innocently committed.
"Don't take any notice of me; for I don't deserve it: I only came to see that you were safe, cousin, and then go hang myself, as Steve advised," he began, in a remorseful tone, that would have been very effective, if he had not been obliged to catch his breath with a comical gasp now and then.
"I never thoughtyouwould be the one to desert me," said Rose, with a reproachful look; thinking it best not to relent too soon, though she was quite ready to do it when she saw how sincerely distressed he was.
"It was that confounded man! He was a regularwalking encyclopædia; and, finding I could get a good deal out of him, I went in for general information, as the time was short. You know I always forget every thing else when I get hold of such a fellow."
"That is evident. I wonder how you came to remember me at all," answered Rose, on the brink of a laugh: it was so absurd.
"I didn't till Steve said something that reminded me: then it burst upon me, in one awful shock, that I'd gone and left you; and you might have knocked me down with a feather," said honest Mac, hiding none of his iniquity.
"What did you do then?"
"Do! I went off like a shot, and never stopped till I reached the Hopes"—
"You didn't walk all that way?" cried Rose.
"Bless you, no: I ran. But you were gone with Mrs. Bliss: so I pelted back again to see with my own eyes that you were safe at home," answered Mac, wiping his hot forehead, with a sigh of relief.
"But it is three miles at least each way; and twelve o'clock, and dark and cold. O Mac! how could you!" exclaimed Rose, suddenly realizing what he had done, as she heard his labored breathing, saw the state of the thin boots, and detected the absence of an overcoat.
"Couldn't do less, could I?" asked Mac, leaning up against the door and trying not to pant.
"There was no need of half-killing yourself for sucha trifle. You might have known I could take care of myself for once, at least, with so many friends about. Sit down this minute. Bring another cup, please, Phebe: this boy isn't going home till he is rested and refreshed after such a run as that," commanded Rose.
"Don't be good to me: I'd rather take a scolding than a chair, and drink hemlock instead of chocolate if you happen to have any ready," answered Mac, with a pathetic puff, as he subsided on to the sofa, and meekly took the draught Phebe brought him.
"If you had any thing the matter with your heart, sir, a race of this sort might be the death of you: so never do it again," said Rose, offering her fan to cool his heated countenance.
"Haven't got any heart."
"Yes, you have, for I hear it beating like a trip-hammer, and it is my fault: I ought to have stopped as we went by, and told you I was all right."
"It's the mortification, not the miles, that upsets me. I often take that run for exercise, and think nothing of it; but to-night I was so mad I made extra good time, I fancy. Now don't you worry, but compose your mind, and 'sip your dish of tea,' as Evelina says," answered Mac, artfully turning the conversation from himself.
"What do you know about Evelina?" asked Rose, in great surprise.
"All about her. Do you suppose I never read a novel?"
"I thought you read nothing but Greek and Latin, with an occasional glance at Websky's pseudophites and the monoclinics of Johanngeorgenstadt."
Mac opened his eyes wide at this reply, then seemed to see the joke, and joined in the laugh with such heartiness that Aunt Plenty's voice was heard demanding from above, with sleepy anxiety,—
"Isthe house afire?"
"No, ma'am, every thing is safe, and I'm only saying good-night," answered Mac, diving for his cap.
"Then go at once, and let that child have her sleep," added the old lady, retiring to her bed.
Rose ran into the hall, and, catching up her uncle's fur coat, met Mac as he came out of the study, absently looking about for his own.
"You haven't got any, you benighted boy! so take this, and have your wits about you next time, or I won't let you off so easily," she said, holding up the heavy garment, and peeping over it, with no sign of displeasure in her laughing eyes.
"Next time! Then you do forgive me? You will try me again, and give me a chance to prove that I'm not a fool?" cried Mac, embracing the big coat with emotion.
"Of course I will; and, so far from thinking you a fool, I was much impressed with your learning to-night, and told Steve that we ought to be proud of our philosopher."
"Learning be hanged! I'll show you that I'mnota book-worm, but as much a man as any of them; and then you may be proud or not, as you like!" cried Mac, with a defiant nod, that caused the glasses to leap wildly off his nose, as he caught up his hat and departed as he came.
A day or two later, Rose went to call upon Aunt Jane, as she dutifully did once or twice a week. On her way upstairs, she heard a singular sound in the drawing-room, and involuntarily stopped to listen.
"One, two, three, slide! One, two, three, turn! Now then, come on!" said one voice, impatiently.
"It's very easy to say 'come on;' but what the dickens do I do with my left leg while I'm turning and sliding with my right?" demanded another voice, in a breathless and mournful tone.
Then the whistling and thumping went on more vigorously than before; and Rose, recognizing the voices, peeped through the half-open door to behold a sight which made her shake with suppressed laughter. Steve, with a red table-cloth tied round his waist, languished upon Mac's shoulder, dancing in perfect time to the air he whistled; for Dandy was a proficient in the graceful art, and plumed himself upon his skill. Mac, with a flushed face and dizzy eye, clutched his brother by the small of his back, vainly endeavoring to steer him down the long room without entangling his own legs in the table-cloth, treading on his partner's toes, or colliding with the furniture. It was very droll; and Rose enjoyed the spectacle, till Mac, in afrantic attempt to swing round, dashed himself against the wall, and landed Steve upon the floor. Then it was impossible to restrain her laughter any longer; and she walked in upon them, saying merrily,—
"It was splendid! Do it again, and I'll play for you."
Steve sprung up, and tore off the table-cloth in great confusion; while Mac, still rubbing his head, dropped into a chair, trying to look quite calm and cheerful as he gasped out,—
"How are you, cousin? When did you come? John should have told us."
"I'm glad he didn't, for then I should have missed this touching tableau of cousinly devotion and brotherly love. Getting ready for our next party, I see."
"Trying to; but there are so many things to remember all at once,—keep time, steer straight, dodge the petticoats, and manage my confounded legs,—that it isn't easy to get on at first," answered Mac, wiping his hot forehead, with a sigh of exhaustion.
"Hardest jobIever undertook; and, as I'm not a battering-ram, I decline to be knocked round any longer," growled Steve, dusting his knees, and ruefully surveying the feet that had been trampled on till they tingled; for his boots and broadcloth were dear to the heart of the dapper youth.
"Very good of you, and I'm much obliged. I've got the pace, I think, and can practise with a chair tokeep my hand in," said Mac, with such a comic mixture of gratitude and resignation that Rose went off again so irresistibly that her cousins joined her with a hearty roar.
"As you are making a martyr of yourself in my service, the least I can do is to lend a hand. Play for us, Steve, and I'll give Mac a lesson, unless he prefers the chair." And, throwing off hat and cloak, Rose beckoned so invitingly that the gravest philosopher would have yielded.
"A thousand thanks, but I'm afraid I shall hurt you," began Mac, much gratified, but mindful of past mishaps.
"I'm not. Steve didn't manage his train well, for good dancers always loop theirs up. I have none at all: so that trouble is gone; and the music will make it much easier to keep step. Just do as I tell you, and you'll go beautifully after a few turns."
"I will, I will! Pipe up, Steve! Now, Rose!" And, brushing his hair out of his eyes with an air of stern determination, Mac grasped Rose, and returned to the charge, bent on distinguishing himself if he died in the attempt.
The second lesson prospered: for Steve marked the time by a series of emphatic bangs; Mac obeyed orders as promptly as if his life depended on it; and, after several narrow escapes at exciting moments, Rose had the satisfaction of being steered safely down the room, and landed with a grand pirouette at the bottom.Steve applauded, and Mac, much elated, exclaimed with artless candor,—
"There really is a sort of inspiration about you, Rose. I always detested dancing before; but now, do you know, I rather like it."
"I knew you would; only you mustn't stand with your arm round your partner in this way when you are done. You must seat and fan her, if she likes it," said Rose, anxious to perfect a pupil who seemed so lamentably in need of a teacher.
"Yes, of course, I know how they do it;" and, releasing his cousin, Mac raised a small whirlwind round her with a folded newspaper, so full of grateful zeal that she had not the heart to chide him again.
"Well done, old fellow. I begin to have hopes of you, and will order you a new dress-coat at once, since you are really going in for the proprieties of life," said Steve from the music-stool, with the approving nod of one who was a judge of said proprieties. "Now, Rose, if you will just coach him a little in his small-talk, he won't make a laughing-stock of himself as he did the other night," added Steve. "I don't mean his geological gabble: that was bad enough, but his chat with Emma Curtis was much worse. Tell her, Mac, and see if she doesn't think poor Emma had a right to think you a first-class bore."
"I don't see why, when I merely tried to have a little sensible conversation," began Mac, with reluctance; for he had been unmercifully chaffed by his cousins, to whom his brother had betrayed him.
"What did you say? I won't laugh if I can help it," said Rose, curious to hear; for Steve's eyes were twinkling with fun.
"Well, I knew she was fond of theatres; so I tried that first, and got on pretty well till I began to tell her how they managed those things in Greece. Most interesting subject, you know?"
"Very. Did you give her one of the choruses or a bit of Agamemnon, as you did when you described it to me?" asked Rose, keeping sober with difficulty as she recalled that serio-comic scene.
"Of course not; but I was advising her to read Prometheus, when she gaped behind her fan, and began to talk about Phebe. What a 'nice creature' she was, 'kept her place,' 'dressed according to her station,' and that sort of twaddle. I suppose itwasrather rude, but being pulled up so short confused me a bit, and I said the first thing that came into my head, which was that I thought Phebe the best-dressed woman in the room, because she wasn't all fuss and feathers like most of the girls."
"O Mac! that to Emma, who makes it the labor of her life to be always in the height of the fashion, and was particularly splendid that night. Whatdidshe say?" cried Rose, full of sympathy for both parties.
"She bridled and looked daggers at me."
"And what did you do?"
"I bit my tongue, and tumbled out of one scrape into another. Following her example, I changed thesubject by talking about the Charity Concert for the orphans; and, when she gushed about the 'little darlings,' I advised her to adopt one, and wondered why young ladies didn't do that sort of thing, instead of cuddling cats and lapdogs."
"Unhappy boy! her pug is the idol of her life, and she hates babies," said Rose.
"More fool she! Well, she got my opinion on the subject, anyway, and she's very welcome; for I went on to say that I thought it would not only be a lovely charity, but excellent training for the time when they had little darlings of their own. No end of poor things die through the ignorance of mothers, you know," added Mac, so seriously that Rose dared not smile at what went before.
"Imagine Emma trotting round with a pauper baby under her arm instead of her cherished Toto," said Steve, with an ecstatic twirl on the stool.
"Did she seem to like your advice, Monsieur Malapropos?" asked Rose, wishing she had been there.
"No, she gave a little shriek, and said, 'Good gracious, Mr. Campbell, how droll you are! Take me to mamma, please,' which I did with a thankful heart. Catch me setting her pug's leg again," ended Mac, with a grim shake of the head.
"Never mind. You were unfortunate in your listener that time. Don't think all girls are so foolish. I can show you a dozen sensible ones, who would discuss dress reform and charity with you, and enjoyGreek tragedy if you did the chorus for them as you did for me," said Rose, consolingly; for Steve would only jeer.
"Give me a list of them, please; and I'll cultivate their acquaintance. A fellow must have some reward for making a teetotum of himself."
"I will with pleasure; and if you dance well they will make it very pleasant for you, and you'll enjoy parties in spite of yourself."
"I cannot be a 'glass of fashion and a mould of form' like Dandy here, but I'll do my best: only, if I had my choice, I'd much rather go round the streets with an organ and a monkey," answered Mac, despondently.
"Thank you kindly for the compliment," and Rose made him a low courtesy, while Steve cried,—
"Now youhavedone it!" in a tone of reproach which reminded the culprit, all too late, that he was Rose's chosen escort.
"By the gods, so I have!" and, casting away the newspaper with a gesture of comic despair, Mac strode from the room, chanting tragically the words of Cassandra,—
"'Woe! woe! O Earth! O Apollo! I will dare to die; I will accost the gates of Hades, and make my prayer that I may receive a mortal blow!'"