_THORNS AMONG THE ROSES._
For a time every thing went smoothly, and Rose was a happy girl; for
the world seemed a beautiful and friendly place, and the fulfilment of
her brightest dreams appeared to be a possibility. Of course, this
could not last, and disappointment was inevitable; because young eyes
look for a Paradise, and weep when they find a work-a-day world, which
seems full of care and trouble, till one learns to gladden and glorify
it with high thoughts and holy living.
Those who loved her waited anxiously for the dis-illusion which must
come in spite of all their cherishing; for, till now, Rose had been so
busy with her studies, travels, and home duties, that she knew very
little of the triumphs, trials, and temptations of fashionable life.
Birth and fortune placed her where she could not well escape some of
them; and Doctor Alec, knowing that experience is the best teacher,
wisely left her to learn this lesson as she must many another,
devoutly hoping that it would not be a hard one.
October and November passed rapidly; and Christmas was at hand, with
all its merry mysteries, home-gatherings, and good wishes.
Rose sat in her own little sanctum, opening from the parlor, busily
preparing gifts for the dear five hundred friends who seemed to grow
fonder and fonder as the holidays drew near. The drawers of her
commode stood open, giving glimpses of dainty trifles, which she was
tying up with bright ribbons.
A young girl's face at such moments is apt to be a happy one; but
Rose's was very grave as she worked, and now and then she threw a
parcel into the drawer with a careless toss, as if no love made the
gift precious. So unusual was this expression that it struck Dr. Alec
as he came in, and brought an anxious look to his eyes; for any cloud
on that other countenance dropped its shadow over his.
"Can you spare a minute from your pretty work to take a stitch in my
old glove?" he asked, coming up to the table strewn with ribbon, lace,
and colored papers.
"Yes, uncle, as many as you please."
The face brightened with sudden sunshine; both hands were put out to
receive the shabby driving-glove; and the voice was full of that
affectionate alacrity which makes the smallest service sweet.
"My Lady Bountiful is hard at work, I see. Can I help in any way?" he
asked, glancing at the display before him.
"No, thank you; unless you can make me as full of interest and
pleasure in these things as I used to be. Don't you think preparing
presents a great bore, except for those you love, and who love you?"
she added, in a tone which had a slight tremor in it as she uttered
the last words.
"I don't give to people whom I care nothing for. Can't do it;
especially at Christmas, when good-will should go into every thing one
does. If all these 'pretties' are for dear friends, you must have a
great many."
"I thought they were friends; but I find many of them are not, and
that's the trouble, sir."
"Tell me all about it, dear, and let the old glove go," he said,
sitting down beside her with his most sympathetic air.
But she held the glove fast, saying eagerly, "No, no, I love to do
this! I don't feel as if I could look at you while I tell what a bad,
suspicious girl I am," she added, keeping her eyes upon her work.
"Very well, I'm ready for confessions of any iniquity, and glad to get
them; for sometimes lately I've seen a cloud in my girl's eyes, and
caught a worried tone in her voice. Is there a bitter drop in the cup
that promised to be so sweet, Rose?"
"Yes, uncle. I've tried to think there was not; but it _is_ there, and
I don't like it. I'm ashamed to tell; and yet I want to, because you
will show me how to make it sweet, or assure me that I shall be the
better for it, as you used to do when I took medicine."
She paused a minute, sewing swiftly; then out came the trouble all in
one burst of girlish grief and chagrin.
"Uncle, half the people who are so kind to me don't care a bit for me,
but for what I can give them; and that makes me unhappy, because I was
so glad and proud to be liked. I do wish I hadn't a penny in the
world, then I should know who my true friends were."
"Poor little lass! she has found out that all that glitters is not
gold, and the dis-illusion has begun," said the doctor to himself,
adding aloud, smiling yet pitiful, "And so all the pleasure is gone
out of the pretty gifts, and Christmas is a failure?"
"Oh, no! not for those whom nothing can make me doubt. It is sweeter
than ever to make _these_ things, because my heart is in every stitch;
and I know that, poor as they are, they will be dear to you, Aunty
Plen, Aunt Jessie, Phebe, and the boys."
She opened a drawer where lay a pile of pretty gifts, wrought with
loving care by her own hands; touching them tenderly as she spoke, and
patting the sailor's knot of blue ribbon on one fat parcel with a
smile that told how unshakable her faith in some one was. "But
_these_," she said, pulling open another drawer, and tossing over its
gay contents with an air half sad, half scornful, "these I _bought_
and give because they are expected. _These_ people only care for a
rich gift, not one bit for the giver, whom they will secretly abuse if
she is not as generous as they expect. How _can_ I enjoy that sort of
thing, uncle?"
"You cannot; but perhaps you do some of them injustice, my dear. Don't
let the envy or selfishness of a few poison your faith in all. Are you
sure that none of these girls care for you?" he asked, reading a name
here and there on the parcels scattered about.
"I'm afraid I am. You see I heard several talking together the other
evening at Annabel's, only a few words, but it hurt me very much; for
nearly every one was speculating on what I would give them, and hoping
it would be something fine. 'She's so rich she ought to be generous,'
said one. 'I've been perfectly devoted to her for weeks, and hope she
won't forget it,' said another. 'If she doesn't give me some of her
gloves, I shall think she's very mean; for she has heaps, and I tried
on a pair in fun so she could see they fitted and take a hint,' added
a third. I did take the hint, you see;" and Rose opened a handsome box
in which lay several pairs of her best gloves, with buttons enough to
satisfy the heart of the most covetous.
"Plenty of silver paper and perfume, but not much love went into
_that_ bundle, I fancy?" and Dr. Alec could not help smiling at the
disdainful little gesture with which Rose pushed away the box.
"Not a particle, nor in most of these. I have given them what they
wanted, and taken back the confidence and respect they didn't care
for. It is wrong, I know; but I can't bear to think all the seeming
good-will and friendliness I've been enjoying was insincere and for a
purpose. That's not the way _I_ treat people."
"I am sure of it. Take things for what they are worth, dear, and try
to find the wheat among the tares; for there is plenty if one knows
how to look. Is that all the trouble?"
"No, sir, that is the lightest part of it. I shall soon get over my
disappointment in those girls, and take them for what they are worth
as you advise; but being deceived in them makes me suspicious of
others, and that is hateful. If I cannot trust people, I'd rather keep
by myself and be happy. I do detest manoeuvring and underhand plots
and plans!"
Rose spoke petulantly, and twitched her silk till it broke; while
regret seemed to give place to anger as she spoke.
"There is evidently another thorn pricking. Let us have it out, and
then 'I'll kiss the place to make it well,' as I used to do when I
took the splinters from the fingers you are pricking so unmercifully,"
said the doctor, anxious to relieve his pet patient as soon as
possible.
Rose laughed, but the color deepened in her cheeks, as she answered
with a pretty mixture of maidenly shyness and natural candor.
"Aunt Clara worries me by warning me against half the young men I
meet, and insisting that they only want my money. Now that is
dreadful, and I won't listen: but I can't help thinking of it
sometimes; for they _are_ very kind to me, and I'm not vain enough to
think it is my beauty. I suppose I am foolish, but I do like to feel
that I am something beside an heiress."
The little quiver was in Rose's voice again as she ended; and Dr. Alec
gave a quick sigh as he looked at the downcast face so full of the
perplexity ingenuous spirits feel when doubt first mars their faith,
and dims the innocent beliefs still left from childhood. He had been
expecting this, and knew that what the girl just began to perceive and
try modestly to tell, had long ago been plain to worldlier eyes. The
heiress _was_ the attraction to most of the young men whom she met.
Good fellows enough, but educated, as nearly all are now-a-days, to
believe that girls with beauty or money are brought to market to sell
or buy as the case may be.
Rose could purchase any thing she liked, as she combined both
advantages; and was soon surrounded by many admirers, each striving to
secure the prize. Not being trained to believe that the only end and
aim of a woman's life was a good match, she was a little disturbed,
when the first pleasing excitement was over, to discover that her
fortune was her chief attraction.
It was impossible for her to help seeing, hearing, guessing this from
a significant glance, a stray word, a slight hint here and there; and
the quick instinct of a woman felt even before it understood the
self-interest which chilled for her so many opening friendships. In
her eyes love was a very sacred thing, hardly to be thought of till it
came, reverently received, and cherished faithfully to the end.
Therefore, it is not strange that she shrunk from hearing it
flippantly discussed, and marriage treated as a bargain to be haggled
over, with little thought of its high duties, great responsibilities,
and tender joys. Many things perplexed her, and sometimes a doubt of
all that till now she had believed and trusted made her feel as if at
sea without a compass; for the new world was so unlike the one she had
been living in that it bewildered while it charmed the novice.
Dr. Alec understood the mood in which he found her, and did his best
to warn without saddening by too much worldly wisdom.
"You are something besides an heiress to those who know and love you;
so take heart, my girl, and hold fast to the faith that is in you.
There is a touchstone for all these things, and whatever does not ring
true doubt and avoid. Test and try men and women as they come along;
and I am sure conscience, instinct, and experience will keep you from
any dire mistake," he said, with a protecting arm about her, and a
trustful look that was very comforting.
After a moment's pause she answered, while a sudden smile dimpled
round her mouth, and the big glove went up to half hide her tell-tale
cheeks,--
"Uncle, if I must have lovers, I do wish they'd be more interesting.
How can I like or respect men who go on as some of them do, and then
imagine women _can_ feel honored by the offer of their hands? hearts
are out of fashion, so they don't say much about them."
"Ah, ha! that is the trouble is it? and we begin to have delicate
distresses do we?" said Dr. Alec, glad to see her brightening, and
full of interest in the new topic; for he _was_ a romantic old fellow,
as he confessed to his brother.
Rose put down the glove, and looked up with a droll mixture of
amusement and disgust in her face. "Uncle, it is perfectly
disgraceful! I've wanted to tell you, but I was ashamed, because I
never could boast of such things as some girls do; and they were so
absurd I couldn't feel as if they were worth repeating even to you.
Perhaps I ought, though; for you may think proper to command me to
make a good match, and of course I should have to obey," she added,
trying to look meek.
"Tell, by all means. Don't I always keep your secrets, and give you
the best advice, like a model guardian? You must have a confidant, and
where find a better one than here?" he asked, tapping his waistcoat
with an inviting gesture.
"Nowhere: so I'll tell all but the names. I'd best be prudent; for I'm
afraid you may get a little fierce: you do sometimes when people vex
me," began Rose, rather liking the prospect of a confidential chat
with uncle; for he had kept himself a good deal in the background
lately.
"You know our ideas are old-fashioned; so I was not prepared to have
men propose at all times and places, with no warning but a few smiles
and soft speeches. I expected things of that sort would be very
interesting and proper, not to say thrilling, on my part: but they are
not; and I find myself laughing instead of crying, feeling angry
instead of glad, and forgetting all about it very soon. Why, uncle,
one absurd boy proposed when we'd only met half a dozen times. But he
was dreadfully in debt, so that accounted for it perhaps," and Rose
dusted her fingers, as if she had soiled them.
"I know him, and I thought he'd do it," observed the doctor with a
shrug.
"You see and know every thing; so there's no need of going on, is
there?"
"Do, do! who else? I won't even guess."
"Well, another went down upon his knees in Mrs. Van's greenhouse and
poured forth his passion manfully, with a great cactus pricking his
poor legs all the while. Kitty found him there, and it was impossible
to keep sober; so he has hated me ever since."
The doctor's "Ha! ha!" was good to hear, and Rose joined him; for it
was impossible to regard these episodes seriously, since no true
sentiment redeemed them from absurdity.
"Another one sent me reams of poetry, and went on so Byronically, that
I began to wish I had red hair and my name was Betsey Ann. I burnt all
the verses: so don't expect to see them; and he, poor fellow, is
consoling himself with Emma. But the worst of all was the one who
would make love in public, and insisted on proposing in the middle of
a dance. I seldom dance round dances except with our boys; but that
night I did, because the girls laughed at me for being so 'prudish,'
as they called it. I don't mind them now; for I found I _was_ right,
and felt that I deserved my fate."
"Is that all?" asked her uncle, looking "fierce," as she predicted, at
the idea of his beloved girl obliged to listen to a declaration,
twirling about on the arm of a lover.
"One more: but him I shall not tell about; for I know _he_ was in
earnest and really suffered, though I was as kind as I knew how to be.
I'm young in these things yet, so I grieved for him, and treat his
love with the tenderest respect."
Rose's voice sunk almost to a whisper as she ended; and Dr. Alec bent
his head, as if involuntarily saluting a comrade in misfortune. Then
he got up, saying with a keen look into the face he lifted by a finger
under the chin,--
"Do you want another three months of this?"
"I'll tell you on New Year's day, uncle."
"Very well: try to keep a straight course, my little captain; and, if
you see dirty weather ahead, call on your first mate."
"Ay, ay, sir; I'll remember."