All dinner-time Rose felt that she was going to be talked about, and
afterward she was sure of it, for Aunt Plenty whispered to her as they
went into the parlour,
“Run up and sit awhile with Sister Peace, my dear. She likes to have you
read while she rests, and we are going to be busy.”
Rose obeyed, and the quiet rooms above were so like a church that she
soon composed her ruffled feelings, and was unconsciously a little
minister of happiness to the sweet old lady, who for years had sat there
patiently waiting to be set free from pain.
Rose knew the sad romance of her life, and it gave a certain tender
charm to this great-aunt of hers, whom she already loved. When Peace was
twenty, she was about to be married; all was done, the wedding dress lay
ready, the flowers were waiting to be put on, the happy hour at hand,
when word came that the lover was dead. They thought that gentle Peace
would die, too; but she bore it bravely, put away her bridal gear, took
up her life afresh, and lived on a beautiful, meek woman, with hair as
white as snow and cheeks that never bloomed again. She wore no black,
but soft, pale colours, as if always ready for the marriage that had
never come.
For thirty years she had lived on, fading slowly, but cheerful, busy,
and full of interest in all that went on in the family; especially the
joys and sorrows of the young girls growing up about her, and to them
she was adviser, confidante, and friend in all their tender trials and
delights. A truly beautiful old maiden, with her silvery hair, tranquil
face, and an atmosphere of repose about her that soothed whoever came to
her!
Aunt Plenty was utterly dissimilar, being a stout, brisk old lady, with
a sharp eye, a lively tongue, and a face like a winter-apple. Always
trotting, chatting, and bustling, she was a regular Martha, cumbered
with the cares of this world and quite happy in them.
Rose was right; and while she softly read psalms to Aunt Peace, the
other ladies were talking about her little self in the frankest manner.
“Well, Alec, how do you like your ward?” began Aunt Jane, as they all
settled down, and Uncle Mac deposited himself in a corner to finish his
doze.
“I should like her better if I could have begun at the beginning, and
so got a fair start. Poor George led such a solitary life that the child
has suffered in many ways, and since he died she has been going on worse
than ever, judging from the state I find her in.”
“My dear boy, we did what we thought best while waiting for you to wind
up your affairs and get home. I always told George he was wrong to bring
her up as he did; but he never took my advice, and now here we are with
this poor dear child upon our hands. I, for one, freely confess that
I don't know what to do with her any more than if she was one of those
strange, outlandish birds you used to bring home from foreign parts.”
And Aunt Plenty gave a perplexed shake of the head which caused great
commotion among the stiff loops of purple ribbon that bristled all over
the cap like crocus buds.
“If my advice had been taken, she would have remained at the excellent
school where I placed her. But our aunt thought best to remove her
because she complained, and she has been dawdling about ever since she
came. A most ruinous state of things for a morbid, spoilt girl like
Rose,” said Mrs. Jane, severely.
She had never forgiven the old ladies for yielding to Rose's pathetic
petition that she might wait her guardian's arrival before beginning
another term at the school, which was a regular Blimber hot-bed, and
turned out many a feminine Toots.
“I never thought it the proper school for a child in good circumstances
an heiress, in fact, as Rose is. It is all very well for girls who are
to get their own living by teaching, and that sort of thing; but all
she needs is a year or two at a fashionable finishing school, so that at
eighteen she can come out with eclat,” put in Aunt Clara, who had been a
beauty and a belle, and was still a handsome woman.
“Dear, dear! how short-sighted you all are to be discussing education
and plans for the future, when this unhappy child is so plainly marked
for the tomb,” sighed Aunt Myra, with a lugubrious sniff and a solemn
wag of the funereal bonnet, which she refused to remove, being afflicted
with a chronic catarrh.
“Now, it is my opinion that the dear thing only wants freedom, rest, and
care. There is look in her eyes that goes to my heart, for it shows that
she feels the need of what none of us can give her a mother,” said Aunt
Jessie, with tears in her own bright eyes at the thought of her boys
being left, as Rose was, to the care of others.
Uncle Alec, who had listened silently as each spoke, turned quickly
towards the last sister, and said, with a decided nod of approval,
“You've got it, Jessie; and, with you to help me, I hope to make the
child feel that she is not quite fatherless and motherless.”
“I'll do my best, Alec; and I think you will need me, for, wise as you
are, you cannot understand a tender, timid little creature like Rose as
a woman can,” said Mrs. Jessie, smiling back at him with a heart full of
motherly goodwill.
“I cannot help feeling that I, who have had a daughter of my own, can
best bring up a girl; and I am very much surprised that George did
not entrust her to me,” observed Aunt Myra, with an air of melancholy
importance, for she was the only one who had given a daughter to
the family, and she felt that she had distinguished herself, though
ill-natured people said that she had dosed her darling to death.
“I never blamed him in the least, when I remember the perilous
experiments you tried with poor Carrie,” began Mrs. Jane, in her hard
voice.
“Jane Campbell, I will not hear a word! My sainted Caroline is a sacred
object,” cried Aunt Myra, rising as if to leave the room.
Dr. Alec detained her, feeling that he must define his position at once,
and maintain it manfully if he hoped to have any success in his new
undertaking.
“Now, my dear souls, don't let us quarrel and make Rose a bone of
contention though, upon my word, she is almost a bone, poor little lass!
You have had her among you for a year, and done what you liked. I cannot
say that your success is great, but that is owing to too many fingers in
the pie. Now, I intend to try my way for a year, and if at the end of it
she is not in better trim than now, I'll give up the case, and hand her
over to someone else. That's fair, I think.”
“She will not be here a year hence, poor darling, so no one need dread
future responsibility,” said Aunt Myra, folding her black gloves as if
all ready for the funeral.
“By Jupiter! Myra, you are enough to damp the ardour of a saint!” cried
Dr. Alec, with a sudden spark in his eyes. “Your croaking will worry
that child out of her wits, for she is an imaginative puss, and will
fret and fancy untold horrors. You have put it into her head that she
has no constitution, and she rather likes the idea. If she had not had a
pretty good one, she would have been 'marked for the tomb' by this
time, at the rate you have been going on with her. I will not have any
interference please understand that; so just wash your hands of her, and
let me manage till I want help, then I'll ask for it.”
“Hear, hear!” came from the corner where Uncle Mac was apparently wrapt
in slumber.
“You were appointed guardian, so we can do nothing. But I predict that
the girl will be spoilt, utterly spoilt,” answered Mrs. Jane, grimly.
“Thank you, sister. I have an idea that if a woman can bring up two boys
as perfectly as you do yours, a man, if he devotes his whole mind to it,
may at least attempt as much with one girl,” replied Dr. Alec, with a
humorous look that tickled the others immensely, for it was a well-known
fact in the family that Jane's boys were more indulged than all the
other lads put together.
“I am quite easy, for I really do think that Alec will improve the
child's health; and by the time his year is out, it will be quite soon
enough for her to go to Madame Roccabella's and be finished off,” said
Aunt Clara, settling her rings, and thinking, with languid satisfaction,
of the time when she could bring out a pretty and accomplished niece.
“I suppose you will stay here in the old place, unless you think of
marrying, and it's high time you did,” put in Mrs. Jane, much nettled at
her brother's last hit.
“No, thank you. Come and have a cigar, Mac,” said Dr. Alec, abruptly.
“Don't marry; women enough in the family already,” muttered Uncle Mac;
and then the gentlemen hastily fled.
“Aunt Peace would like to see you all, she says,” was the message Rose
brought before the ladies could begin again.
“Hectic, hectic! dear me, dear me!” murmured Aunt Myra, as the shadow
of her gloomy bonnet fell upon Rose, and the stiff tips of a black glove
touched the cheek where the colour deepened under so many eyes.
“I am glad these pretty curls are natural; they will be invaluable by
and by,” said Aunt Clara, taking an observation with her head on one
side.
“Now that your uncle has come, I no longer expect you to review the
studies of the past year. I trust your time will not be entirely wasted
in frivolous sports, however,” added Aunt Jane, sailing out of the room
with the air of a martyr.
Aunt Jessie said not a word, but kissed her little niece, with a look
of tender sympathy that made Rose cling to her a minute, and follow her
with grateful eyes as the door closed behind her.
After everybody had gone home, Dr. Alec paced up and down the lower
hall in the twilight for an hour, thinking so intently that sometimes
he frowned, sometimes he smiled, and more than once he stood still in a
brown study. All of a sudden he said, half aloud, as if he had made up
his mind,
“I might as well begin at once, and give the child something new to
think about, for Myra's dismals and Jane's lectures have made her as
blue as a little indigo bag.”
Diving into one of the trunks that stood in a corner, he brought up,
after a brisk rummage, a silken cushion, prettily embroidered, and a
quaint cup of dark carved wood.
“This will do for a start,” he said, as he plumped up the cushion and
dusted the cup. “It won't do to begin too energetically, or Rose will be
frightened. I must beguile her gently and pleasantly along till I've won
her confidence, and then she will be ready for anything.”
Just then Phebe came out of the dining-room with a plate of brown bread,
for Rose had been allowed no hot biscuit for tea.
“I'll relieve you of some of that,” said Dr. Alec, and, helping himself
to a generous slice, he retired to the study, leaving Phebe to wonder at
his appetite.
She would have wondered still more if she had seen him making that brown
bread into neat little pills, which he packed into an attractive ivory
box, out of which he emptied his own bits of lovage.
“There! if they insist on medicine, I'll order these, and no harm will
be done. I will have my own way, but I'll keep the peace, if possible,
and confess the joke when my experiment has succeeded,” he said to
himself, looking very much like a mischievous boy, as he went on with
his innocent prescriptions.
Rose was playing softly on the small organ that stood in the upper hall,
so that Aunt Peace could enjoy it; and all the while he talked with the
old ladies, Uncle Alec was listening to the fitful music of the child,
and thinking of another Rose who used to play for him.
As the clock struck eight, he called out,
“Time for my girl to be abed, else she won't be up early, and I'm full
of jolly plans for to-morrow. Come and see what I've found for you to
begin upon.”
Rose ran in and listened with bright attentive face, while Dr. Alec said
impressively,
“In my wanderings over the face of the earth, I have picked up some
excellent remedies, and, as they are rather agreeable ones, I think you
and I will try them. This is a herb-pillow, given to me by a wise old
woman when I was ill in India. It is filled with saffron, poppies, and
other soothing plants; so lay your little head on it to-night, sleep
sweetly without a dream, and wake to-morrow without a pain.”
“Shall I really? How nice it smells.” And Rose willingly received
the pretty pillow, and stood enjoying its faint, sweet odour, as she
listened to the doctor's next remedy.
“This is the cup I told you of. Its virtue depends, they say, on the
drinker filling it himself; so you must learn to milk. I'll teach you.”
“I'm afraid I never can,” said Rose; but she surveyed the cup with
favour, for a funny little imp danced on the handle, as if all ready to
take a header into the white sea below.
“Don't you think she ought to have something more strengthening than
milk, Alec? I really shall feel anxious if she does not have a tonic of
some sort,” said Aunt Plenty, eyeing the new remedies suspiciously, for
she had more faith in her old-fashioned doses than all the magic cups
and poppy pillows of the East.
“Well, ma'am, I'm willing to give her a pill, if you think best. It is
a very simple one, and very large quantities may be taken without harm.
You know hasheesh is the extract of hemp? Well, this is a preparation of
corn and rye, much used in old times, and I hope it will be again.”
“Dear me, how singular!” said Aunt Plenty, bringing her spectacles to
bear upon the pills, with a face so full of respectful interest that it
was almost too much for Dr. Alec's gravity.
“Take one in the morning, and a good-night to you, my dear,” he said,
dismissing his patient with a hearty kiss.
Then, as she vanished, he put both hands into his hair, exclaiming, with
a comical mixture of anxiety and amusement,
“When I think what I have undertaken, I declare to you, aunt, I feel
like running away and not coming back till Rose is eighteen!”