_POLISHING MAC._
"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 handkerchief about 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 he _had_ been "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 thought _he_ was 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 a minute, 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 manoeuvre. 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, "That _is_ it; 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; for people 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 what _you_ did; 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.
"Then _I_ am 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 good _that_ is 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 you _could_ be 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 education _had_ been
sadly neglected, and she was glad to glide smoothly about with Steve,
though he 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."
"What _is_ Mac 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
its melancholy 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 scientific _tête-à-tête_ going 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,--
"It _is_ a 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 with Kitty 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 thought _you_ would 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 regular walking 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 such a 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,--
"_Is_ the 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'm _not_ a 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 a frantic 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 job _I_ ever 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 to keep 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 it _was_ rather 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. What _did_ she 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 the subject 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 enjoy Greek
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 you _have_ done 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!'"