 Preface of Eight Cousins. The author is quite aware of the defects of this little story, many of which were unavoidable, as it first appeared serially. But, as Uncle Alex's experiment was intended to amuse the young folks, rather than suggest educational improvements for the consideration of the elders, she trusts that these shortcomings will be overlooked by the friends of the Eight Cousins, and she will try to make amends in a second volume which shall attempt to show the rose in bloom. End of Preface. Chapter 1 of Eight Cousins. Rose sat all alone in the big best parlor, with her little handkerchief laid ready to catch the first tear, for she was thinking of her troubles, and a shower was expected. She had retired to this room as a good place in which to be miserable, for it was dark and still, full of ancient furniture, somber curtains, and hung all around with portraits of solemn old gentlemen in wigs, severe-nosed ladies in top-heavy caps, and staring children in little bob-tailed coats or short-waisted frocks. It was an excellent place for her woe, and the fitful spring rain that patterned on the window-pane seemed to sob, Cry away, I'm with you. Rose really did have some cause to be sad, for she had no mother, and had lately lost her father also, which left her no home but this with her great aunts. She had been with them only a week, and though the dear old ladies had tried their best to make her happy, they had not succeeded very well, for she was unlike any child they had ever seen, and they felt very much as if they had the care of a low-spirited butterfly. They had given her the freedom of the house, and for a day or two she had amused herself roaming all over it, for it was a capital-old mansion, and was full of all manner of odd nooks, charming rooms, and mysterious passages. Windows broke out in unexpected places, little balconies overhung the garden most romantically, and there was a long upper hall full of curiosities from all parts of the world, for the campels had been sea-captains for generations. And Plenty had even allowed Rose to rummage in her great china-closet as a spicy retreat, rich in all the goodies that children love, but Rose seemed to care little for these toothsome temptations, and when that hope failed Aunt Plenty gave up in despair. Gentle Aunt Peace had tried all sorts of pretty needlework, and planned a doll's wardrobe that would have won the heart of even an older child, but Rose took little interest in pink satin hats and tiny hoes, though she sewed dutifully till her aunt caught her wiping tears away with the train of a wedding-dress, and that discovery put an end to the sewing society. Then both old ladies put their heads together and picked out the model-child of the neighborhood to come and play with their niece. But Ariadne Blish was the worst failure of all, for Rose could not bear the sight of her, and said she was so like a waxed doll, she longed to give her a pinch, and see if she would squeak. So prim little Ariadne was sent home, and the exhausted aunties left Rose to her own devices for a day or two. Bad weather and a cold kept her indoors, and she spent most of her time in the library where her father's books were stored. Here she read a great deal, cried a little, and dreamed many of the innocent bright dreams in which imaginative children find such comfort and delight. This suited her better than anything else, but it was not good for her, and she grew pale, heavy-eyed, and listless, though Aunt Plenty gave her iron enough to make a cooking-stove, and Aunt Peace petted her like a poodle. Seeing this, the poor aunties racked their brains for a new amusement, and determined to venture a bold stroke, though not very hopeful of its success. They said nothing to Rose about their plan for this Saturday afternoon, but left her alone till the time came for the grand surprise, little dreaming that the odd child would find pleasure for herself in a most unexpected quarter. Before she had time to squeeze out a single tear, a sound broke the stillness, making her prick up her ears. It was only the soft twitter of a bird, but it seemed to be a peculiarly gifted bird, for while she listened the soft twitter changed to a lively whistle, then a trill, a coup, a chirp, and ended in a musical mixture of all the notes, as if the bird burst out laughing. Rose laughed too, and forgetting her woes jumped up, saying eagerly, It is a mockingbird, where is it? Running down the long hall she peeped out at both doors, but saw nothing feathered except a dragletailed chicken under a birdock leaf. She listened again, and the sound seemed to be in the house. Away she went, much excited by the chase, and following the changeful song it led her to the china-closet door. In there, how funny, she said. But when she entered not a bird appeared except the everlastingly kissing swallows on the canton china that lined the shelves. All of a sudden Rose's face brightened, and, softly opening the slide, she peered into the kitchen. But the music had stopped, and all she saw was a girl in a blue apron scrubbing the hearth. Rose stared about her for a minute, and then asked abruptly, Did you hear that mockingbird? I should call it a Phoebe bird, answered the girl, looking up with a twinkle in her black eyes. Where did it go? It is here still. Where? In my throat. Do you want to hear it? Oh yes, I'll come in. And Rose crept through the slide to the wide shelf on the other side, being too hurried and puzzled to go round by the door. The girl wiped her hands, crossed her feet on the little island of carpet where she was stranded in a sea of soapsuds, and then, sure enough, out of her slender throat came the swallows' twitter, the robin's whistle, the blue jays' call, the thrush's song, the wood dove's coup, and many another familiar note, all ending as before with the musical ecstasy of a bubbling singing and swinging among the meadow-grass on a bright June day. Rose was so astonished that she nearly fell off her perch, and when the little concert was over clapped her hands delightedly. Oh, it was lovely! Who taught you? The birds answered the girl with a smile as she fell to work again. It is very wonderful. I can sing, but nothing half so fine as that. What is your name, please? Phoebe Moore. I've heard of Phoebe birds, but I don't believe the real ones could do that, laughed Rose. Adding as she watched with interest the scattering of dabs of soft soap over the bricks. May I stay and see you work? It is very lonely in the parlor. Yes, indeed, if you want to, answered Phoebe, ringing out her cloth in a capable sort of way that impressed Rose very much. It must be fun to swash the water round and dig out the soap. I'd love to do it, only Aunt wouldn't like it, I suppose, said Rose. You'd soon get tired, so you'd better keep tidy and look on. I suppose you help your mother a good deal? I haven't got any, folks. Why, where do you live then? I'm going to live here, I hope. Debbie wants someone to help round, and I've come to try for a week. I hope you will stay, for it is very dull, said Rose, who had taken a sudden fancy to this girl, who sung like a bird and worked like a woman. Hope I shall, for I'm fifteen now and old enough to earn my own living. You have come to stay a spell, haven't you, asked Phoebe, looking up at her guest and wondering how life could be dull to a girl who wore a silk frock, a daintily frilled apron, a pretty locket, and had her hair tied up with a velvet snood. Yes, I shall stay till my uncle comes. He is my guardian now, and I don't know what he will do with me. Have you a guardian? My sakes no. I was left on the poor house steps a little might of a baby, and Miss Rogers took a liking to me, so I've been there ever since. But she is dead now, and I take care of myself. How interesting! It is like Arabella Montgomery in The Gypsy's Child. Did you ever read that sweet story, asked Rose, who was fond of tales of foundlings, and had read many? I don't have any books to read, and all the spare time I get I run off into the woods. That rests me better than stories, answered Phoebe, as she finished one job and began on another. Rose watched her as she got out a great pan of beans to look over, and wondered how it would seem to have life all work and no play. Presently Phoebe seemed to think it was her turn to ask questions, and said, wistfully. You've had lots of schooling, I suppose. Oh, dear me, yes. I've been at boarding school nearly a year, and I'm almost dead with lessons. The more I got, the more Miss Power gave me, and I was so miserable that I most cried my eyes out. Papa never gave me hard things to do, and he always taught me so pleasantly I loved to study. Oh, we were so happy and so fond of one another. But now he is gone, and I am left all alone. The tear that would not come when Rose sat waiting for it came now of its own accord, two of them in fact, and rolled down her cheeks, telling the tale of love and sorrow better than any words could do it. For a minute there was no sound in the kitchen, but the little daughter sobbing, and the sympathetic patter of the rain. Phoebe stopped rattling her beans from one pan to the other, and her eyes were full of pity as they rested on the curly head bent down on Rose's knee, for she saw that the heart under the pretty locket ached with its loss, and the dainty apron was used to dry-satter tears than any she had ever shed. Somehow she felt more contented with her brown calico gown and blue-checked pinafore, envy changed to compassion, and if she had dared she would have gone and hugged her afflicted guest. Fearing that might not be considered proper, she said in her cheery voice, I'm sure you ain't all alone with such a lot of folks belonging to you, and also rich and clever. You'll be petted to pieces, Debbie says, because you're the only girl in the family. Phoebe's last words made Rose smile in spite of her tears, and she looked out from behind her apron with an April face, saying in a tone of comic distress, That's one of my troubles, I've got six aunts and they all want me, and I don't know any of them very well. Papa named this place the Ant Hill, and now I see why. Phoebe laughed with her as she said encouragingly. Everyone calls it so, and it's a real good name, for all the Mrs. Campels live handy by, and keep coming up to see the old ladies. I could stand the aunts, but there are dozens of cousins, dreadful boys all of them, and I detest boys. Some of them came to see me last Wednesday, but I was lying down, and when Auntie came to call me I went under the quilt and pretended to be asleep. I shall have to see them some time, but I do dread it so. And Rose gave a shudder, for, having lived alone with her invalid father, she knew nothing of boys, and considered them a species of wild animal. Oh, I guess you'll like them. I've seen them flying around when they come over from the point, sometimes in their boats, and sometimes on horseback. If you like boats and horses you'll enjoy yourself first rate. But I don't. I'm afraid of horses, and boats make me ill, and I hate boys. And poor Rose wrung her hands at the awful prospect before her. One of these horrors alone she could have borne, but altogether were too much for her, and she began to think of a speedy return to the detested school. Phoebe laughed at her woe till the beans danced in the pan, but tried to comfort her by suggesting a means of relief. Perhaps your uncle will take you away where there ain't any boys. Debbie says he is a real kind man, and always bring heaps of nice things when he comes. Yes, but you see that is another trouble, for I don't know Uncle Alec at all. He hardly ever came to see us, though he sent me pretty things very often. Now I belong to him, and shall have to mind him till I am eighteen. I may not like him a bit, and I fret about it all the time. Well, I wouldn't borrow trouble, but have a real good time. I'm sure I should think I was in clover if I had folks and money, and nothing to do but enjoy myself began Phoebe, but got no further, for a sudden Russian tumble outside made them both jump. It's thunder, said Phoebe. It's a circus, cried Rose, who from her elevated perch had caught glimpses of a gay cart of some sort, and several ponies with flying mains and tails. The sound died away and the girls were about to continue their confidences, when old Debbie appeared, looking rather cross and sleepy after her nap. You are wanted in the parlor, Miss Rose. Has anybody come? Little girl shouldn't ask questions, but do as they are bid, was all Debbie would answer. I do hope it isn't Aunt Myra. She always scares me out of my wits asking how my cough is, and groaning over me as if I was going to die, said Rose, preparing to retire the way she came, for the slide, being cut for the admission of bouncing Christmas turkeys and puddings, was plenty large enough for a slender girl. Guess you wish it wasn't, Myra, when you see who has come. Don't never let me catch you coming into my kitchen that way again, or I'll shut you up in the big boiler, growled Debbie, who thought at her duty to snub children on all occasions. CHAPTER II. THE CLAN. Rose scrambled into the china-closet as rapidly as possible, and there refreshed herself by making faces at Debbie while she settled her plumage and screwed up her courage. Then she crept softly down the hall and peeped into the parlor. No one appeared, and all was so still she felt sure the company was upstairs, so she skipped boldly through the half-open folding doors to behold on the other side a sight that nearly took her breath away. One boy stood in a row, all ages, all sizes, all yellow-haired and blue-eyed, all in full scotch costume, and all smiling, nodding, and saying as if with one voice, How are you, cousin? Rose gave a little gasp, and looked wildly about her as if ready to fly, for fear magnified the seven, and the room seemed full of boys. Before she could run, however, the tallest lad stepped out of the line, saying pleasantly, Don't be frightened. This is the clan come to welcome you, and I'm the chief, Archie, at your service. He held out his hand as he spoke, and Rose timidly put her own into a brown paw, which closed over the white morsel and held it as the chief continued his introductions. We came in full rig, for we always turn out in style on grand occasions. Hope you like it. Now I'll tell you who these chaps are, and then we shall be all right. This big one is Prince Charlie, Aunt Clara's boy. She has but one, so he is an extra good one. This old fellow is Mack, the bookworm, called Worm for short. This sweet creature is Steve, the dandy. Look at his gloves and topknot, if you please. They are Aunt Jane's lads, and a precious pair you'd better believe. These are the Bratz, my brothers, Jordy and Will, and Jamie the baby. Now my men, step out and show your manners. At this command to Rose's great dismay, six more hands were offered, and it was evident that she was expected to shake them all. It was a trying moment to the bashful child, but, remembering that they were her kinsmen come to welcome her, she tried her best to return the greeting cordially. This impressive ceremony being over, the clan broke ranks, and both rooms instantly appeared to be pervaded with boys. Rose hastily retired to the shelter of a big chair, and sat there watching the invaders and wondering when her aunt would come and rescue her. As if bound to do their duty manfully, yet rather oppressed by it, each lad paused beside her chair in his wanderings, made a brief remark, received a still briefer answer, and then sheered off with a relieved expression. Archie came first, and, leaning over the chair back, observed in a paternal tone, I'm glad you've come, cousin, and I hope you'll find the anthill pretty jolly. I think I shall. Mac shook his hair out of his eyes, stumbled over a stool and asked abruptly, did you bring any books with you? Four boxes full, they are in the library. Mac vanished from the room, and Steve, making an attitude which displayed his costume effectively, said with an affable smile. We were sorry not to see you last Wednesday. I hope your cold is better. Yes, thank you. And a smile began to dimple about Rose's mouth as she remembered her retreat under the bed cover. Feeling that he had been received with distinguished marks of attention, Steve strolled away with his top not higher than ever, and Prince Charlie pranced across the room, saying in a free and easy tone, Mama sent her love and hopes you will be well enough to come over for a day next week. It must be desperately dull here for a little thing like you. I'm thirteen and a half, though I do look small, cried Rose, forgetting her shyness in indignation at this insult to her newly acquired teens. Beg pardon, ma'am, never should have guessed it, and Charlie went off with a laugh, glad to have struck a spark out of his meek cousin. Charlie and Will came together. Two sturdy, eleven and twelve year olders, and, fixing their round blue eyes on Rose, fired off a question apiece as if it was a shooting match and she the target. Did you bring your monkey? No, he is dead. Are you going to have a boat? I hope not. Here, the two with the right about face movement, abruptly marched away, and little Jamie demanded with childish frankness, did you bring me anything nice? Yes, lots of candy, answered Rose, whereupon Jamie ascended into her lap with a sounding kiss and the announcement that he liked her very much. This proceeding rather startled Rose, for the other lads looked and laughed, and in her confusion she said hastily to the young usurper, did you see the circus go by? When? Where? cried all the boys in great excitement at once. Just before you came, at least I thought it was a circus, for I saw a red and black sort of cart and ever so many little ponies, and she got no farther, for a general shout made her pause suddenly as Archie explained the joke by saying in the middle of his laugh, it was our new dog cart and the Shetland ponies, he'll never hear the last of your circus, cousin. But there were so many and they went so fast and the cart was so very red began Rose, trying to explain her mistake. Come and see them all, cried the Prince, and before she knew what was happening she was born away to the barn and tumultuously introduced to three shaggy ponies and the gay new dog cart. She had never visited these regions before, and had her doubts as to the propriety of her being there now, but when she suggested that Auntie might not like it, there was a general cry of, she told us to amuse you, and we can do it ever so much better out here than poking round in the house. I'm afraid I shall get cold without my sack, began Rose, who wanted to stay but felt rather out of her element. No, you won't, we'll fix you, cried the lads, as one clapped his cap on her head, another tied a rough jacket round her neck by the sleeves, a third neatly smothered her in a carriage-blanket, and a fourth threw open the door of the old barouche that stood there saying with a flourish, step in, ma'am, and make yourself comfortable while we show you some fun. So Rose sat in a state of enjoying herself very much, for the lads proceeded to dance a highland fling with a spirit and skill that made her clap her hands and laugh as she had not done for weeks. How is that, my lassie, asked the prince, coming up all flushed and breathless when the ballet was over? It was splendid! I never went to the theatre but once, and the dancing was not half so pretty as this. What clever boys you must be, said Rose, smiling upon her kinsmen like a little queen upon her subjects. Ah, we're a fine lot, and that is only the beginning of our larks. We haven't got the pipes here, our weed. Sing for you, play for you a dolcy melody, answered Charlie, looking much elated at her praise. I did not know we were Scotch, Papa never said anything about it, or seemed to care about Scotland, except to have me sing the old ballads, said Rose, beginning to feel as if she had left America behind her somewhere. Neither did we till lately. We've been reading Scotch novels, and all of a sudden we remembered that our grandfather was a Scotchman, so we hunted up the old stories, got a bagpipe, put on our plaids, and went in, heart and soul, for the glory of the clan. We've been at it some time now, and it's great fun. Our people like it, and I think we are a pretty canny set. Archie said this from the other coach-step, where he had perched while the rest climbed up before and behind to join the chat as they rested. I'm Fitz James, and he's Roderick Dew, and will give you the broadsword combat one day. It's a great thing you'd better believe, added the Prince. Yes, and you should hear Steve play the pipes. He makes him scurl like a good one cried Will from the box, eager to air the accomplishments of his race. Max the fellow to hunt up the old stories and tell us how to dress right, and pick out rousing bits for us to speak and sing, put in Geordi, saying a good word for the absent worm. And what do you and Will do, asked Rose of Jamie, who sat beside her as if bound to keep her in sight till the promised gift had been handed over. Oh, I'm the little foot-page in Dew Aaron's, and Will and Geordi are the troops when we march, and the stags when we hunt, and the traitors when we want to cut any heads off. They are very obliging, I'm sure, said Rose, where at the utility men, beamed with modest pride and resolved to enact Wallace and Montrose as soon as possible for their cousin's special benefit. Let's have a game of tag, cried the Prince, swinging himself up to a beam with a sounding slap on Stevie's shoulder. Regardless of his gloves, Dandy tore after him, and the rest swarmed in every direction as if bent on breaking their necks and dislocating their joints as rapidly as possible. It was a new and astonishing spectacle to Rose, fresh from a prim boarding school, and she watched the active lads with breathless interest, thinking their antics far superior to those of mops, the dear departed monkey. Will had just covered himself with glory by pitching off a high loft head-first and coming up all right, when Phoebe appeared with a cloak, hood, and rubbers. Also, a message from Aunt Plenty that Miss Rose was to come in directly. All right, we'll bring her, answered Archie, issuing some mysterious order which was so promptly obeyed that, before Rose could get out of the carriage, the boys had caught hold of the pole, and rattled her out of the barn, round the oval and up to the front door with a cheer that brought two caps to an upper window, and caused Debbie to cry aloud from the back porch. Them harem-scarrem boys will certainly be the death of that delicate little creedor. But the delicate little creedor seemed all the better for her trip, and ran up the stairs looking rosy, gay, and disheveled, to be received with lamentation by Aunt Plenty, who begged her to go and lie down at once. Oh, please don't. We have come to tea with our cousin, and will be as good as gold if you'll let us stay, Auntie, clamored the boys, who not only approved of our cousin, but had no mind to lose their tea, for Aunt Plenty's name but feebly expressed her bountiful nature. Well, dears, you can only be quiet and let Rose go and take her iron and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for supper, said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley of directions for the approaching feast. Marmalade for me, auntie, plenty of plum cake, please. Tell Debbie to trot out the baked pears. I'm your man for lemon pie, ma'am. Do have fritters, Rose will like them. She'd rather have tarts, I know. When Rose came down fifteen minutes later, with every curl smooth and her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys loafing about the long hall, and paused on the halfway landing to take an observation, for till now she had not really examined her newfound cousins. There was a strong family resemblance among them, though some of the yellow heads were darker than others, some of the cheeks brown instead of rosy, and the ages varied all the way from sixteen-year-old Archie to Jamie, who was ten years younger. None of them were especially comely but the prince, yet all were hearty, happy-looking lads, and Rose decided that boys were not as dreadful as she had expected to find them. They were also characteristically employed that she could not help smiling as she looked. Archie and Charlie, evidently great cronies, were pacing up and down, shoulder to shoulder, whistling Bonnie Dundee, Mack was reading in a corner, with his book close to his nearsighted eyes. Jordy and Will investigating the internal economy of the moon-faced clock, and Jamie lay kicking up his heels on the mat at the foot of the stairs, bent on demanding his sweeties the instant Rose appeared. She guessed his intention, and forestalled his demand by dropping a handful of sugar-plums down upon him. At his cry of rapture the other lads looked up and smiled involuntarily, for the little kin's woman standing there above was a winsome sight with her shy, soft eyes, bright hair and laughing face. The black frock reminded them of her loss, and filled the boyish hearts with a kindly desire to be good to our cousin, who had no longer any home but this. There she is, as fine as you please, cried Steve, kissing his hands to her. Come on, Missy, tea is ready, added the prince encouragingly. I shall take her in. And Archie offered his arm with great dignity, an honour that made Rose turn as red as a cherry, and long to run upstairs again. It was a merry supper, and the two elder boys added much fun by tormenting the rest with dark hints of some interesting event which was about to occur, something uncommonly fine, they declared it was, but enveloped in the deepest mystery for the present. Did I ever see it, asked Jamie? Not to remember it, but Mac and Steve have, and liked it immensely, answered Archie, thereby causing the two mentioned to neglect Debbie's delectable fritters for several minutes while they cuddled their brains. Who will have at first asked well with his mouth full of marmalade? At plenty, I guess. When will she have it, demanded Geordi, bouncing in his seat with impatience, some time on Monday? Hard alive, what is the boy talking about, cried the old lady from behind the tall urn, which left little to be seen but the topmost bow of her cap. Doesn't Auntie Noe, asked a chorus of voices? No, and that's the best of the joke, for she is desperately fond of it. What color is it, asked Rose, joining in the fun? Blue and brown. Is it good to eat, asked Jamie? Some people think so, but I shouldn't like to try it, answered Charlie, laughing so he split his tea. Who does it belong to, put in Steve? Archie and the Prince stared at one another rather blankly for a minute, then Archie answered with a twinkle in the eye that made Charlie explode again, to grandfather Campbell. This was a poser, and they gave up the puzzle, though Jamie confided to Rose that he did not think he could live till Monday without knowing what this remarkable thing was. Soon after tea the clan departed, singing all the blue bonnets are over the border at the tops of their voices. Well, dear, how do you like your cousins, asked Aunt Plenty, as the last pony frisked round the corner and the din died away? Pretty well, ma'am, but I like Phoebe better. An answer which caused Aunt Plenty to hold up her hands in despair and trot away to tell Sister Peace that she never should understand that child, and it was a mercy aliquus coming soon to take the responsibility off their hands. Fatigued by the unusual exertions of the afternoon, Rose curled herself up in the sofa corner to rest and think about the great mystery, little guessing that she was to know first of all. Right in the middle of her meditation she fell asleep, and dreamed she was at home again in her own little bed. She seemed to wake and see her father bending over her, to hear him say, my little Rose, to answer, yes, Papa, and then to feel him take her in his arms and kiss her tenderly. So sweet, so real was the dream, that she started up with a cry of joy to find herself in the arms of a brown, bearded man who held her close, and whispered in a voice so like her father's that she clung to him involuntarily. This is my little girl, and I am Uncle Alec. She was not sure whether she had dreamed what occurred the night before, or it had actually happened. So she hopped up and dressed, although it was an hour earlier than she usually Rose, for she could not sleep any more, being possessed with a strong desire to slip down and see if the big portmanteau and packing cases were really in the hall. She seemed to remember tumbling over them when she went to bed, for all the ants had sent her off very punctually, because they wanted their pet nephew all to themselves. The sun was shining, and Rose opened her window to let in the soft may air fresh from the sea. As she leaned over her little balcony, watching an early bird get the worm, and wondering how she should like Uncle Alec, she saw a man leap the garden wall and come whistling up the path. At first she thought it was some trespasser, but a second look showed her that it was her uncle returning from an early dip into the sea. She had hardly dared to look at him the night before, because whenever she tried to do so, she always found a pair of keen blue eyes looking at her. Now she could take a good stare at him as he lingered along, looking about him as if glad to see the old place again. A brown, breezy man in a blue jacket, with no hat on the curly head, which he shook now and then like a water dog. Broad-shouldered, alert in his motions, and with a general air of strength and stability about him which pleased Rose, though she could not explain the feeling of comfort it gave her. She had just said to herself, with a sense of relief, I guess I shall like him, though he looks as if he made people mind. When he lifted his eyes to examine the budding horse chestnut overhead, and saw the eager face peering down at him. He waved his hand to her, nodded, and called out in a bluff cheery voice. You are on deck early, little niece. I got up to see if you had really come, uncle. Did you? Well, come down here and make sure of it. I'm not allowed to go out before breakfast, sir. Oh, indeed, with a shrug. Then I'll come aboard and salute, he added, and to Rose's great amazement, uncle Alec went up one of the pillars of the back piazza, hand over hand, stepped across the roof, and swung himself into her balcony, saying, as he landed on the wide ball-strade, Have you any doubts about me now, ma'am? Rose was so taken aback, she could only answer with a smile as she went to meet him. How does my girl do this morning, he asked, taking the little gold hand she gave him in both his big warm ones. Pretty well, thank you, sir. Ah, but it should be very well. Why, isn't it? I always wake up with a headache and feel tired. Don't you sleep well? I lie awake a long time, and then I dream, and my sleep does not seem to rest me much. What do you do all day? Oh, I read, and sew a little, and take naps, and sit with auntie. No running about out of doors, or housework, or riding, hey? Aunt Plenty says I'm not strong enough for much exercise. I drive out with her sometimes, but I don't care for it. I'm not surprised at that, said Uncle Alec, half to himself, adding, in his quick way, who have you had to play with? No one but Ariadne Blish, and she was such a goose I couldn't bear her. The boys came yesterday and seemed rather nice, but of course I couldn't play with them. Why not? I'm too old to play with boys. Not a bit of it, that's just what you need, for you've been molly-cottled too much. They are good lads, and you'll be mixed up with them more or less for years to come, so you may as well be friends and playmates at once. I will look you up some girls also, if I can find a sensible one who is not spoiled by her nonsensical education. Phoebe is sensible, I'm sure, and I like her, though I only saw her yesterday, cried Rose, waking up suddenly. And who is Phoebe, if you please? Rose eagerly told all she knew, and Uncle Alec listened with an odd smile lurking about his mouth, though his eyes were quite sober as he watched the face before him. I'm glad to see that you are not aristocratic in your tastes, but I don't quite make out why you like this young lady from the poor house. You may laugh at me, but I do. I can't tell why, only she seems so happy and busy, and sings so beautifully, and is strong enough to scrub and sweep, and hasn't any troubles to plague her, said Rose, making a funny jumble of reasons in her efforts to explain. How do you know that? Oh, I was telling her about mine, and asked if she had any, and she said no, only I'd like to go to school, and I mean to some day. So she doesn't call desertion poverty and hard work troubles. She's a brave little girl, and I shall be proud to know her, and Uncle Alec gave an approving nod that made Rose wish she had been the one to earn it. But what are these troubles of yours, child, he asked after a minute of silence. Please don't ask me, Uncle. Can't you tell them to me as well as to Phoebe? Something in his tone made Rose feel that it would be better to speak out and be done with it, so she answered with sudden color and averted eyes. The greatest one was losing dear Papa. As she said that, Uncle Alec's arm came gently round her, and he drew her to him, saying, in the voice so like Papa's, that is a trouble which I cannot cure my child, but I shall try to make you feel it less. What else, dear? I am so tired and poorly all the time. I can't do anything I want to, and it makes me cross, sighed Rose, rubbing the aching head like a fretful child. That we can cure, and we will, said her Uncle, with a decided knot that made the curls bob on his head so that Rose saw the gray ones underneath the brown. Aunt Myra says I have no constitution and never shall be strong, observed Rose in a pensive tone as if it was rather a nice thing to be an invalid. Aunt Myra is a hem. An excellent woman, but it is her hobby to believe that everyone is tottering on the brink of the grave, and upon my life I believe she is offended if people don't fall into it. We will show her how to make constitutions and turn pale-faced little ghosts into rosy, hearty girls. That's my business, you know, he added more quietly, for his sudden outburst had rather startled Rose. I had forgotten you are a doctor. I'm glad of it, for I do want to be well. Only I hope you won't give me much medicine, for I've taken courts already, and it does me no good. As she spoke, Rose pointed to a little table just inside the window, on which appeared a regiment of bottles. Ah-ha! Now we'll see what mischief these blessed women have been at, and, making a long arm, Dr. Alex set the bottles on the wide railing before him, examined each carefully, smiled over some, frowned over others, and said, as he put down the last, Now I'll show you the best way to take these messes, and, quick as a flash, he sent one after another, smashing down into the posy beds below. Aunt Plenty won't like it, and Aunt Myra will be angry, for she sent most of them, cried Rose, half frightened and half pleased at such energetic measures. You are my patient now, and I'll take the responsibility. My way of giving physics is evidently the best, for you look better already, he said, laughing so infectiously that Rose followed suit, saying saucily, If I don't like your medicines any better than those, I shall throw them into the garden, and then what will you do? When I prescribe such rubbish, I'll give you leave to pitch it overboard as soon as you like. Now what is the next trouble? I hoped you would forget to ask. But how can I help you if I don't know them? Come, let us have number three. It is very wrong, I suppose, but I do sometimes wish I had not quite so many aunts. They are all very good to me, and I want to please them, but they are so different, I feel sort of pulled pieces among them, said Rose, trying to express the emotions of a stray chicken with six hands all clucking over it at once. Uncle Alec threw back his head and laughed like a boy, for he could entirely understand how the good ladies had each put in her oar and tried to paddle her own way to the great disturbance of the waters and the entire bewilderment of poor Rose. I intend to try a course of uncles now and see how that suits your constitution. I'm going to have you all to myself, and no one is to give a word of advice unless I ask it. There is no other way to keep order aboard, and I am captain of this little craft, for a time at least. What comes next? But Rose stuck there and grew so red her uncle guessed what the trouble was. I don't think I can tell this one. It wouldn't be polite, and I feel pretty sure that it isn't going to be a trouble any more. As she blushed and stammered over these words, Dr. Alec turned his eyes away to the distant sea, and said, so seriously, so tenderly, that she felt every word and long remembered them. My child, I don't expect you to love and trust me all at once, but I do want you to believe that I shall give my whole heart to this new duty, and if I make mistakes, as I probably shall, no one will grieve over them more bitterly than I. It is my fault that I am a stranger to you when I want to be your best friend. That is one of my mistakes, and I never repented it more deeply than I do now. Your father and I had a trouble once, and I thought I could never forgive him, so I kept away for years. Thank God we made it all up the last time I saw him, and he told me them that if he was forced to leave her he should bequeath his little girl to me as a token of his love. I can't fill his place, but I shall try to be a father to her, and if she learns to love me half as well as she did the good one she has lost, I shall be a proud and happy man. Will she believe this and try? Something in Uncle Alec's face touched Rose to the heart, and when he held out his hand with that anxious troubled look in his eyes, she was moved to put up her innocent lips and seal the contract with a confiding kiss. The strong arm held her close a minute, and she felt the broad chest heave once, as if with a great sigh of relief, but not a word was spoken till a tap at the door made both start. Rose popped her head through the window to say, come in, while Dr. Alec hastily rubbed the sleeve of his jacket across his eyes and began to whistle again. Phoebe appeared with a cup of coffee. Debbie told me to bring this and help you get up, she said, opening her black eyes wide, as if she wondered how on earth the sailor man got there. I'm all dressed, so I don't need any help. I hope that is good and strong, added Rose. I'm the steaming cup with an eager look. But she did not get it, for a brown hand took possession of it, as her uncle said quickly, hold hard my last and let me overhaul that dose before you take it. Do you drink all this strong coffee every morning, Rose? Yes, sir, and I like it. Auntie says it tones me up, and I always feel better after it. This accounts for the sleepless nights. The flutter your heart gets into at the least start, and this is why that cheek of yours is pale yellow instead of rosy red. No more coffee for you, my dear, and by and by you'll see that I am right. Any new milk downstairs, Phoebe? Yes, sir, plenty right in from the barn. That's the drink for my patient. Go bring me a pitcherful and another cup I want to draft myself. This won't hurt the honeysuckles, for they have no nerves to speak of, and to Rose's great discomfort the coffee went after the medicine. Dr. Alex saw the injured look she put on, but took no notice, and presently banished it by saying pleasantly, I've got a capital little cup among my traps, and I'll give it to you to drink your milk in, as it is made of wood that is supposed to improve whatever is put into it something like a Quassia cup. That reminds me, one of the boxes Phoebe wanted to lug upstairs last night is for you. Knowing that I was coming home to find a ready-made daughter, I picked up all sorts of odd and pretty trifles along the way, hoping she would be able to find something she liked among them all. Early tomorrow we'll have a grand rummage. Here's our milk. I propose the health of Miss Rose Campbell and drink it with all my heart. It was impossible for Rose to pout with the prospect of a delightful box full of gifts dancing before her eyes, so in spite of herself she smiled as she drank her own health, and found that fresh milk was not a hard dose to take. Now I must be off before I am caught again with my wig in a toss, said Dr. Alex, preparing to descend the way he came. Do you always go in and out like a cat, Uncle, ask Rose, much amused at his odd ways? I used to sneak out of my window when I was a boy, so I need not disturb the ants, and now I rather like it, for it's the shortest road and it keeps me limber when I have no rigging to climb. Goodbye till breakfast, and away he went down the water-spout over the roof and vanished among the budding honeysuckles below. Ain't he a funny garden, exclaimed Phoebe, as she went off with the cups? He is a very kind one, I think, answered Rose, following to prowl around the big boxes and try to guess which was hers. When her Uncle appeared at the sound of the bell, he found her surveying with an anxious face a new dish that smoked on the table. Got a fresh trouble, Rosie, he asked, stroking her smooth head. Uncle, are you going to make me eat oatmeal, asked Rose in a tragic tone? Don't you like it? I detest it, answered Rose, with all the emphasis which it turned up nose, a shudder and a groan could give to the three words. You are not a true scotch woman if you don't like the perich. It's a pity for I made it myself, and thought we'd have such a good time with all that cream to float it in. Well, never mind. And he sat down with a disappointed air. Rose had made up her mind to be obstinate about it, because she did heartily detest the dish, but as Uncle Alec did not attempt to make her obey, she suddenly changed her mind and thought she would. I'll try to eat it to please you, Uncle, but people are always saying how wholesome it is, and that makes me hate it, she said, half ashamed at her silly excuse. I do want you to like it, because I wish my girl to be as well and strong as Jesse's boys, who are brought up on this in the good old fashion. No hot bread and fried stuff for them, and they are the biggest and bonyest lads of the lot. Bless you, Auntie, and good morning. Dr. Alec turned to greet the old lady, and, with a firm resolve to eat or die in the attempt, Rose sat down. In five minutes she forgot what she was eating, so interested was she in the chat that went on. It amused her very much to hear Aunt Plenty call her forty-year-old nephew, my dear boy, and Uncle Alec was so full of lively gossip about all creation in general, and the anthill in particular, that the detested porridge vanished without a murmur. You will go to church with us, I hope, Alec, if you are not too tired, said the old lady when breakfast was over. I came all the way from Calcutta for that express purpose, ma'am. Only I must send the sister's word of my arrival, for they don't expect me till to-morrow, you know, and there will be a row in church if those boys see me without warning. I'll send Ben up the hill, and you can step over to Myra's yourself, it will please her, and you have plenty of time. Dr. Alec was off at once, and they saw no more of him till the old Baruch was at the door, and Aunt Plenty just rustling downstairs in her Sunday best, with Rose like a little black shadow behind her. A way they drove in state, and all the way Uncle Alec's hat was more off his head than on, for every one they met smiled and bowed, and gave him as Bly the greeting as the day permitted. It was evident that the warning had been a wise one, for in spite of time and place the lads were in such a ferment that their elders sat in momentary dread of an unseemly outbreak somewhere. It was simply impossible to keep those fourteen eyes off Uncle Alec, and the dreadful things that were done during sermon time will hardly be believed. Rose dared not look up after a while, for these bad boys vented their emotions upon her till she was ready to laugh and cry with mingled amusement and vexation. Charlie winked rapturously at her behind his mother's fan. Mac openly pointed to the tall figure beside her. Jamie stared fixedly over the back of his pew, till Rose thought his round eyes would drop out of his head. George fell over a stool and dropped three books in his excitement. Will drew sailors and Chinaman on his clean cuffs and displayed them to Rose's great tribulation. Steve nearly upset the whole party by burning his nose with salts, as he pretended to be overcome by his joy. Even dignified Archie disgraced himself by writing in his hymn-book, Isn't he blue and brown, and passing it politely to Rose? Her only salvation was trying to fix her attention upon Uncle Mac, a portly, placid gentleman, who seemed entirely unconscious of the iniquities of the clan and dozed peacefully in his pew corner. This was the only Uncle Rose had met for years, for Uncle Jem and Uncle Steve, the husbands of Aunt Jessie and Aunt Clara, were at sea, and Aunt Myra was a widow. Uncle Mac was a merchant, very rich and busy, and as quiet as a mouse at home. For he was in such a minority among the woman-folk he dared not open his lips and let his wife rule undisturbed. Rose liked the big, kindly, silent man who came to her when Papa died. He was always sending her splendid boxes of goodies at school, and often invited her into his great warehouse, full of teas and spices, wines, and all sorts of foreign fruits, there to eat and carry away whatever she liked. She had secretly regretted that he was not to be her guardian, but since she had seen Uncle Alec she felt better about it, for she did not particularly admire Aunt Jane. When church was over Dr. Alec got into the porch as quickly as possible, and there the young bears had a hug all round, while the sisters shook hands and welcomed him with bright faces and glad hearts. Rose was nearly crushed flat behind a door in that dangerous passage from pew to porch, but Uncle Mac rescued her and put her into the carriage for safekeeping. Now, girls, I want you to come and dine with Alec. Mac also, of course. But I cannot ask the boys, for we did not expect this dear fellow until to-morrow, you know, so I made no preparations. Send the lads home and let them wait till Monday, for really I was shocked at their behaviour in church, said Aunt Plenty as she followed Rose. In any other place the defrauded boys would have set up a howl. As it was they growled and protested till Dr. Alec settled the matter by saying, never mind, old chaps, I'll make it up to you to-morrow, if you shear off quietly. If you don't, not a blessed thing shall you have out of my big boxes. CHAPTER IV. OF EIGHT CUSINS. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. 8 Cousins by Louisa May Alcott. CHAPTER IV. ANTS. All dinner-time Rose felt that she was going to be talked about, and afterwards 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 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 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 advisor, confidant, 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. But 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, combered 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. An 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 spoiled 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 hotbed 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 a fancy clot, put in Aunt Clara, who had been a beauty and a bell, 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 at Myra with a lugubrious sniff and a solemn wag of the funerial bonnet which she refused to remove, being afflicted with a chronic guitar. Now, it is my opinion that the dear thing only wants freedom, rest, and care. There is a look in her eyes that goes to my heart, for it shows that she feels the need of what none of us can give her, a mother, said Aunt Jesse, 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, Jesse, 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. Jesse, smiling back at him with a heartful 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 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. Here here came from the corner where Uncle Mack was apparently wrapped 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 Rockabella'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 nettle that 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 gentleman hastily fled. Aunt Pease would like to see you all, she says, was the message Rose brought before the ladies could begin again? Hectic, hectic, dear me, dear me, murmured Aunt Myra, as the shadow of her gloomy bonnet fell upon Rose, and the stiff tips of a black glove touched the cheek where the color deepened under so many eyes. I'm 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. Jesse 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-allowed, 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 dismal 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 predately 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 Phoebe 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, not leaving Phoebe to wonder at his appetite. She would have wondered still more as she had seen him making that brown bread into neat little pills, which he packed into an 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 a bed, 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 a 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 odor as she listened to the doctor's next remedy. This is the cup I told you of. Its virtue depends, they say, on the drinker filling it himself, so you must learn to milk. I'll teach you. I'm afraid I never can, said Rose. But she surveyed the cup with 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 how sheesh is the extract of hemp? Well this is a preparation of corn and rye, much used in the old times, and I hope it will be again. Dear me, how singular, said Aunt Plenty, bringing her spectacles to bear upon the pills, with a face so full of respectful interest that it was almost too much for Dr. Alec's gravity. Take one in the morning, and a good night to you, my dear, he said, dismissing his patient with a hearty kiss. Then, as she vanished, he put both hands into his hair, exclaiming, with a comical mixture of anxiety and amusement. When I think what I have undertaken, I declare to you, Aunt, I feel like running away and not coming back till Rose is eighteen. CHAPTER V When Rose came out of her chamber, cup and hand, next morning, the first person she saw was Uncle Alec, standing on the threshold of the room opposite, which he appeared to be examining with care. When he heard her step, he turned about and began to sing. Where are you going, my pretty maid? I'm going a milking, sir, she said, answered Rose, waving the cup, and then they finished the verse together in fine style. Your eye there spoke, ahead, in a night-cap so large and bereffled, that it looked like a cabbage, popped out of a room farther down the hall, and an astonished voice exclaimed, What in the world are you doing about so early? Clearing our pipes for the day, ma'am, look here, Auntie, can I have this room, said Dr. Alec, making her a sailor's bow? Any room you like, except sisters. Thanks! And may I go rummaging about in the garrets and glory-holes to furnish it as I like? My dear boy, you may turn the house upside down, if you will only stay in it. That's a handsome offer, I'm sure. I'll stay, ma'am, here's my little anchor, so you will get more than you want of me this time. That's impossible. Put on your jacket, Rose. Don't tire her out with antics, Alec. Yes, sister, I'm coming. And the cabbage vanished suddenly. The first milking lesson was a droll one, but after several scares and many vain attempts, Rose at last managed to fill her cup, while Ben held Clover's tail so that it could not flap, and Dr. Alec kept her from turning to stare at the new milkmaid, who objected to both these proceedings very much. You look chilly in spite of all this laughing. Take a smart run round the garden and get up a glow, said the doctor, as they left the barn. I'm too old for running, Uncle. Miss Power said it was not ladylike for girls in their teens, answered Rose, primbly. I take the liberty of differing from Madame Prunes and Prisms, and as your physician I order you to run, off with you, said Uncle Alec, with a look and a gesture that made Rose scurry away as fast as she could go. Anxious to please him, she raced round the beds till she came back to the porch where he stood, and, dropping down upon the steps, she sat panting, with cheeks as rosy as the wrigolette on her shoulders. Very well done, child, I see you have not lost the use of your limbs, though you are in your teens. That belt is too tight, unfastened, then you can take a long breath without panting so. It isn't tight, sir, I can breathe perfectly well, began Rose, trying to compose herself. Her uncle's only answer was to lift her up and unhook the new belt of which she was so proud. The moment the clasp was open, the belt flew apart several inches, for it was impossible to restrain the involuntary sigh of relief that flatly contradicted her words. Why, I didn't know it was tight. It didn't feel so a bit. Of course it would open if I puff like this, but I never do, because I hardly ever run, explained Rose, rather disconfited by this discovery. I see you don't half fill your lungs, and so you can wear this absurd thing without feeling it. The idea of cramping a tender little waist in a stiff band of leather and steel, just when it ought to be growing, said Dr. Alec, surveying the belt with great disfavor as he put the clasp forward several holes, to Rose's secret dismay, for she was proud of her slender figure and daily rejoiced that she wasn't as stout as Lully Miller, a former classmate who vainly tried to repress her plumpness. It will fall off if it is so loose, she said anxiously, as she stood watching him pull her precious belt about. Not if you keep taking long breaths to hold it on. This is what I want you to do, and when you have filled this out we will go on enlarging it, till your waist is more like that of heeb, goddess of health, and less like that of a fashion plate, the ugliest thing imaginable. How it does look! And Rose gave a glance of scorn at the loose belt hanging round her trim little waist. It will be lost, and then I shall feel badly, for it cost ever so much, and is real steel and rush of leather. Just smell how nice! If it is lost I'll give you a better one. A soft silken sash is much fitter for a pretty child like you than a plated harness like this, and I've got no end of Italian scarves and Turkish sashes among my traps. Ah, that makes you feel better, doesn't it? Then he pinched the cheek that had suddenly dimpled with a smile. It is very silly of me, but I can't help liking to know that—here she stopped and blushed, and held down her head, a shame to add. You think I am pretty. Dr. Alex Eyes twinkled, but he said very soberly, Rose, are you vain? I'm afraid I am, answered a very meek voice, from behind the veil of hair that hid the red face. It is a sad fault, and he sighed as if grieved at the confession. I know it is, and I try not to be, but people praise me and I can't help liking it, for I really don't think I'm repulsive. The last word and the funny tone in which it was uttered were too much for Dr. Alec, and he laughed in spite of himself to Rose's great relief. I quite agree with you, and in order that you may be still less repulsive, I want you to grow as fine a girl as Phoebe. Phoebe! And Rose looked so amazed that her uncle nearly went off again. Yes, Phoebe, for she has what you need—health. If you dear little girls would only learn what real beauty is, and not pinch and starve and bleach yourselves out so, you'd save an immense deal of time and money and pain. A happy soul and a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman. Do you understand that, my dear? Yes, sir, answered Rose, much taken down by this comparison with the girl from the poor-house. It nettle'd her sadly, and she showed that it did, by saying quickly. I suppose you would like to have me sweep and scrub, and wear an old brown dress, and go round with my sleeves rolled up as Phoebe does? I should very much, if you could work as well as she does, and show as strong a pair of arms as she can. I haven't seen a prettier picture for some time than she made of herself this morning, up to the elbows and suds, singing like a blackbird whilst she scrubbed on the backed stoop. Well, I do think you are the queerest man that ever lived, was all Rose could find to say, after this display of bad taste. I haven't begun to show you my oddities yet. So you must make up your mind to worse shocks than this, he said, with such a whimsical look that she was glad the sound of a bell prevented her showing more plainly what a blow her little vanities had already received. You will find your box all open up in Auntie's parlour, and there you can amuse her and yourself by rummaging to your heart's content. I've got to be cruising round all the morning, getting my room to rights, said Dr. Alec, as they rose from breakfast. Can't I help you, Uncle, ask Rose, quite burning to be useful. No thank you, I'm going to borrow Phoebe for a while. If Aunt Plenty can spare her. Really anything, Alec. You will want me, I know, so I'll give orders about dinner and be all ready to lend a hand, and the old lady bustled away full of interest and goodwill. Uncle will find that I can do some things that Phoebe can't. So now. Thought rose with a toss of her head as she flew to Aunt Peace and the long-desired box. Every little girl can easily imagine what an extra good time she had, diving into a sea of treasures and fishing up one pretty thing after another, till the air was full of the mingled odors of musk and sandalwood, the room gay with bright colors, and rose in a rapture of delight. She began to forgive Dr. Alec for the oatmeal diet when she saw a lovely ivory work-box, became resigned to the state of her belt when she found a pile of rainbow-colored sashes, and when she came to some distractingly pretty bottles of a tar of rose, she felt that they almost atoned for the great sin of thinking Phoebe the finer girl of the two. Dr. Alec, meanwhile, had apparently taken Aunt Plenty at her word, and was turning the house upside down. A general revolution was evidently going on in the green room, for the dark damask curtains were seen bundling away in Phoebe's arms, the airtight stove retiring to the cellar on Ben's shoulder, and the great bed-stead going up Garrett in a fragmentary state, escorted by three bearers. Aunt Plenty was constantly on the trot among her storerooms, camp for chests, and linen-closets, looking as if the new order of things both amazed and amused her. Half the peculiar performances of Dr. Alec cannot be revealed, but as rose glanced up from her box, now and then she caught glimpses of him striding by, bearing a bamboo chair, a pair of ancient and irons, a queer Japanese screen, a rug or two, and finally a large bathing-pan upon his head. Her curious room it will be, she said, as she sat resting and refreshing herself, with lumps of delight all the way from Cairo. I fancy you will like it, dearie, answered Aunt Pease, looking up with a smile from some pretty trifle she was making, with blue silk and white muslin. Rose did not see the smile, for just at that moment her uncle paused at the door, and she sprang up to dance before him, saying, with a face full of childish happiness, Look at me, look at me! I'm splendid, I don't know myself. I haven't put these things on right, I daresay, but I do like them so much. You look as gay as a parrot in your fez and cabaja, and it does my heart good to see the little black shadow turn into a rainbow, said Uncle Alec, surveying the bright figure before him with great approbation. He did not say it, but he thought she made a much prettier picture than Phoebe at the wash-tub, for she had stuck a purple fez on her blonde head, tied several brilliant scarfs about her waist, and put on a truly gorgeous scarlet jacket with a golden sun embroidered on the back, a silver moon on the front, and stars of all sizes on the sleeves. A pair of Turkish slippers adorned her feet, and necklaces of amber, coral, and filigree hung about her neck, while one hand held a smelling-bottle, and the other the spicy box of oriental sweet-meats. I feel like a girl in the Arabian Nights and expect to find a magic carpet or a wonderful talisman somewhere. Only I don't see how I ever can thank you for all these lovely things," she said, stopping her dance as if suddenly oppressed with gratitude. I'll tell you how. By leaving off the black clothes that never should have been kept so long on such a child, and wearing the gay ones I've brought, it will do your spirits good and cheer up this sober old house, won't it, Auntie? I think you are right, Alec, and it is fortunate that we have not begun on her spring clothes yet, for Myra thought she ought not to wear anything brighter than violet, and she is too pale for that. You just let me direct Miss Hemming how to make some of these things. You will be surprised to see how much I know about piping hems and gathering armholes and shirring biases, began Dr. Alec, patting a pile of muslin cloth and silk with a knowing air. Aunt Peace and Rose laughed so hard he could not display his knowledge any farther till they stopped, when he said good-naturedly. That will do a great way towards filling out the belt, so laugh away, Morgiana, and I'll go back to my work, or I never shall be done. I couldn't help it. Sure biases were so very funny, Rose said, as she turned to her box after this blended laugh. But really, auntie, she added soberly. I feel as if I ought not to have so many nice things. I suppose it wouldn't do to give Phoebe some of them. Uncle might not like it. He would not mind, but they are not suitable for Phoebe. Some of the dresses you are done with would be more useful, if they can be made over to fit her, answered Aunt Peace in the prudent, moderate tone, which is so trying to our feelings when we indulge in little fits of charitable enthusiasm. I'd rather give her new ones, for I think she is a little proud and might not like old things. If she was my sister it would do, because sisters don't mind, but she isn't, and that makes it bad, you see. I know how I can manage beautifully. I'll adopt her, and Rose looked quite radiant with this new idea. I'm afraid you could not do it legally till you are older, but you might see if she likes the plan, and at any rate you can be very kind to her, for in one sense we are all sisters and should help one another. The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that Rose was fired with a desire to settle the matter at once, and rushed away to the kitchen, just as she was. Phoebe was there, polishing up the antique and irons so busily, that she started when a voice cried out, "'Smell that! Taste this, and look at me!' Phoebe sniffed at her of Rose, crunched the lump of delight tucked into her mouth, and stared with all her eyes at little more Gianna, prancing about the room like a brilliant parakeet. "'My stars ain't you splendid,' was all she could say, holding up two dusty hands. "'I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs, and I'll show them all to you, and I'd go halves, only Auntie think they wouldn't be useful, so I shall give you something else, and you won't mind, will you, because I want to adopt you as Arabella was in the story. Won't that be nice?' "'Why, Miss Rose, have you lost your wits?' No wonder Phoebe asked, for Rose talked very fast and looked so odd in her new costume, and was so eager she could not stop to explain. Seeing Phoebe's bewilderment, she quieted down and said, with a pretty air of earnestness, "'It isn't fair that I should have so much in you so little, and I want to be as good to you as if you were my sister, for Aunt Pease says we are all sisters, really. I thought if I adopted you as much as I can now it would be nicer. Will you let me, please?' To Rose's great surprise, Phoebe sat down on the floor and hid her face in her apron for a minute without answering a word. "'Oh, dear, now she's offended, and I don't know what to do,' thought Rose, much discouraged by this reception of her offer. "'Please forgive me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and hope you won't think.' She faltered presently, feeling that she must undo the mischief, if possible. Phoebe gave her another surprise, by dropping the apron and showing a face all smiles, in spite of tears in the eyes, as she put both arms round Rose and said, with a laugh and a sob, "'I think you are the dearest girl in the world, and I'll let you do anything you like with me.' "'Then you do like the plan? You didn't cry because I seem to be kind of patronizing? I truly didn't mean it to be,' cried Rose, delighted. "'I guess I do like it,' and cried because no one was ever so good to me before, and I couldn't help it. As for patronizing, you may walk on me if you want to, and I won't mind,' said Phoebe, in a burst of gratitude. For the words, we are sisters, went straight to her lonely heart, and nestled there. "'Well, now we can play. I'm a good sprite out of the box, or what is better, a fairy godmother come down the chimney, and you are Cinderella, and must say what you want,' said Rose, trying to put the question delicately. Phoebe understood that, for she had a good deal of natural refinement, though she did come from the poor house. "'I don't feel as if I wanted anything now, Miss Rose, but to find some way of thanking you for all you've done,' she said, rubbing off a tear that went rolling down the bridge for no's in the most unromantic way. "'Why, I haven't done anything but given you a bit of candy. Here have some more, and eat them while you work, and think what I can do. I must go and clear up, so good-bye, and don't forget I've adopted you.' "'You've given me sweeter things than candy, and I'm not likely to forget it.' And carefully wiping off the brick-dust, Phoebe pressed the little hand Rose offered warmly in both her hard ones, and the black eyes followed the departing visitor with a grateful look that made them very soft and bright. End of Chapter 5 CHAPTER VI. OF EIGHT CUSINS This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Clarica. VIII. CHAPTER VI. UNCLE ALEC'S ROOM Soon after dinner, and before she had got acquainted with half her new possessions, Dr. Alec proposed a drive to carry round the first installment of gifts to the aunts and cousins. Rose was quite ready to go, being anxious to try a certain soft bernouse from the box, which not only possessed a most engaging little hood, but had funny tassels bobbing in all directions. The big carriage was full of parcels, and even Ben's seat was loaded with Indian war-clubs, a Chinese kite of immense size, and a pair of polished oxhorns from Africa. Uncle Alec, very blue as to his clothes, and very brown as to his face, sat bolt upright, surveying well-known places with interest, while Rose, feeling unusually elegant and comfortable, leaned back, folded in her soft mantle, and played she was an eastern princess making a royal progress among her subjects. At three of the places their calls were brief, for Aunt Myra's Qatar was unusually bad. Aunt Clara had a room full of company, and Aunt Jane showed such a tendency to discuss the population, productions, and politics of Europe, Asia, and Africa, that even Dr. Alec was dismayed and got away as soon as possible. Now we will have a good time. I do hope the boys will be at home, said Rose, with a sigh of relief as they wound yet higher up the hill to Aunt Jessie's. I left this for the last call, so that we might find the lads just in from school. Yes, there is Jamie on the gate watching for us. Now you'll see the clan gather, they are always swarming about together. The instant Jamie saw the approaching guests, he gave a shrill whistle, which was answered by echoes from Meadow, House, and Barn, as the cousins came running from all directions, shouting, Hooray for Uncle Alec! They went at the carriage like highwaymen, robbed it of every parcel, took the occupants' prisoners, and marched them into the house with great exultation. Little mum, little mum, here they are with lots of goodies, come down and see the fun right away, quick! Bald Will and Jordie, amidst a general ripping off of papers, and a reckless cutting of strings that soon turned the tidy room into a chaos. One came Aunt Jessie, with her pretty cap half on, but such a beaming face below it that one rather thought the flyaway headgear an improvement than otherwise. She had hardly time to greet Rose and the doctor, before the boys were about her, each clamoring for her to see his gift and rejoice over it with him, for little mum went haves and everything. The great horns skirmished about her as if to toss her to the ceiling. The war-clubs hurtled over her head as if to annihilate her. And an amazing medley from four quarters of the globe filled her lap, and seven excited boys all talked to her at once. But she liked it, oh dear yes, and sent smiling, admiring, and explaining, quite untroubled by the din which made Rose cover up her ears and Dr. Alec threaten instant flight if the riot was not quelled. That threat produced a lull, and while the uncle received thanks in one corner the aunt had some little confidences made to her in the other. Well, dear, and how are things going with you now? Better, I hope, than they were a week ago. Aunt Jessie, I think I'm going to be very happy now uncle has come. He does the queerest things, but he is so good to me I can't help loving him. And, nestling closer to little mum, Rose told all that had happened, ending with a rapturous account of the splendid box. I am very glad, dear, but Rose I must warn you of one thing, don't let uncle spoil you. But I like to be spoiled, auntie. I don't doubt it, but if you turn out badly when the year is over he will be blamed, and his experiment prove a failure. That would be a pity, wouldn't it, when he wants to do so much for you, and can do it if his kind heart does not get in the way of his good judgment. I never thought of that, and I'll try not to be spoiled, but how can I help it, asked Rose anxiously, by not complaining of the wholesome things he wants you to do, by giving him cheerful obedience as well as love, and even making some small sacrifices for his sake. I will, I truly will, and when I get in a worry about things, may I come to you, uncle told me to, and I feel as if I shouldn't be afraid. You may, darling. This is the place where little troubles are best cured, and this is what mothers are for, I fancy. And Aunt Jesse drew the curly head to her shoulder, with a tender look that proved how well she knew what medicine the child most needed. It was so sweet and comfortable that Rose sat still enjoying it till a little voice said, Mama, don't you think Pokie would like some of my shells? Rose gave Phoebe some of her nice things, and it was very good of her, can I? Who is Pokie, asked Rose, popping up her head, attracted by the odd name. My dolly, do you want to see her, asked Jamie, who had been much impressed by the tale of adoption he had overheard. Yes, I'm fond of dollies, only don't tell the boys or they will laugh at me. They don't laugh at me and they play with my dolly a great deal, but she likes me best, and Jamie ran away to produce his pet. I brought my old doll, but I keep her hidden because I am too big to play with her, and yet I can't bear to throw her away, I'm so fond of her, said Rose, continuing her confidences in a whisper. You can come and play with Jamie's whenever you like, for we believe in dollies up here, began Aunt Jessie smiling to herself as if something amused her. Just then Jamie came back, and Rose understood the smile, for his dolly proved to be a pretty four-year-old little girl, who trodded in as fast as her fat legs would carry her, and making straight for the shells scrambled up an armful, saying, with a laugh that showed her little white teeth. All for Demi and me, that's my dolly, isn't she a nice one, asked Jamie, proudly surveying his pet with his hands behind him, and his short legs rather far apart, a manly attitude copied from his brothers. She is a dear dolly, but why call her pokey, asked Rose, charmed with the new plaything. She is such an inquisitive little body, she is always poking that might of a nose into everything, and as Paul Pry did not suit, the boys fell to calling her pokey. Not a pretty name, but very expressive. It certainly was, for having examined the shells, the busy taut laid hold of everything she could find, and continued her researches till Archie caught her sucking his carved ivory chessman to see if they were not barley sugar. Rice paper pictures were also discovered crumpled up in her tiny pocket, and she nearly smashed Will's ostrich egg by trying to sit upon it. Here, Jim, take her away. She's worse than the puppies and we can't have her round, commanded the elder brother, picking her up and handing her over to the little fellow, who received her with open arms and the warning remark. You'd better mind what you do for ongoing to adopt pokey like Rose did Phoebe, and then you'll have to be very good to her, you big fellows. Dopped away, baby, and I'll give you a cage to keep her in, for you won't have her long, for she is getting worse than a monkey. And Archie went back to his mates, while Aunt Jessie, for seeing a crisis, proposed that Jamie should take his dolly home, as she was borrowed, and it was time her visit ended. My dolly is better than yours, isn't she, because she can walk and talk and sing and dance, and yours can't do anything, can she? asked Jamie with pride, as he regarded his pokey, who just then had been moved to execute a funny little jig, and warble the well known couplet. Puss-tat, puss-tat, where you been? I been London to saw a tween. After which superb display she retired, escorted by Jamie, both making a fearful din, blowing on conch-shells. We must tear ourselves away, Rose, because I want to get you home before sunset. Will you come for a drive, Jessie, said Dr. Alec, as the music died away in the distance? No, thank you. But I see the boys want a scamper. So, if you don't mind, they may escort you home, but not go in. That is only allowed on holidays. The words were hardly out of Aunt Jessie's mouth when Archie said, in a tone of command, pass the word, lads, boot and saddle, and be quick about it. All right. And in a moment, not a vestige of boy remained but the litter on the floor. The cavalcade went down the hill at a pace that made Rose cling to her uncle's arm, for the fat old horses got excited by the antics of the ponies, careering all about them, and went as fast as they could pelt, with the gay dog cart rattling in front, for Archie and Charlie scorned shelties since this magnificent equipage had been set up. Ben enjoyed the fun, and the lads cut up capers till Rose declared that Circus was the proper name for them after all. When they reached the house they dismounted, and stood, three on each side the steps in martial attitudes, while her ladyship was handed out with great elegance by Uncle Alec. Then the clan saluted, mounted at word of command, and, with a wild whoop, tore down the avenue in what they considered the true Arab style. That was splendid, now it has safely ended, said Rose, skipping up the steps with her head over her shoulder, to watch the dear tassels bob about. I shall get you a pony as soon as you are a little stronger, said Dr. Alec, watching her with a smile. Oh, I couldn't ride one of those horrid frisky little beasts. They roll their eyes and bounce about so I should die a fright, clasping her hands tragically. Are you a coward? About horses I am. Never mind then, come and see my new room. And he led the way upstairs without another word. As Rose followed she remembered her promise to Aunt Jessie, and was sorry she had objected so decidedly. She was a great deal more sorry five minutes later, and well she might be. Now, take a good look and tell me what you think of it, said Dr. Alec, opening the door and letting her enter before him, while Phoebe was seen whisking down the back stairs with a dustpan. Rose walked to the middle of the room, stood still and gazed about her with eyes that brightened as they looked, for all was changed. This chamber had been built out over the library to suit some fancy, and had been unused for years, except at Christmas times, when the old house overflowed. It had three windows, one to the east that overlooked the bay, one to the south where the horse-chestnuts waved their green fans, and one to the west towards the hill and the evening sky. A ready sunset burned there now, filling the room with an enchanted glow. The soft murmur of the sea was heard, and a robin chirped, good night among the budding trees. Rose saw and heard these things first, and felt their beauty with a child's quick instinct. Then her eye took in the altered aspect of the room, once so shrouded, still and solitary, now so full of light and warmth and simple luxury. India matting covered the floor, with a gay rug here and there. The antique and irons shone on the wide hearth, where a cheery blaze dispelled the dampness of the long-closed room. Bamboo lounges and chairs stood about, and quaint little tables in cozy corners, one bearing a pretty basket, one a desk, and on a third lay several familiar-looking books. In a recess stood a narrow white bed, with a lovely Madonna hanging over it. The Japanese screen, half-folded back, showed a delicate toilet service of blue and whites at fourth on a marble slab, and nearby was the great bath-pan, with Turkish towels and a sponge as big as Rose's head. Uncle must love cold water like a duck, she thought, with a shiver. Then her eye went on to the tall cabinet, where a half-open door revealed a tempting array of the drawers, shelves, and cubby-holes which so delight the hearts of children. What a grand place for my new things, she thought, wondering what her uncle kept in that cedar retreat. O me! what a sweet toilet-table was her next mental exclamation as she approached this inviting spot. And old-fashioned mirror hung over it, with a gilt eagle atop, holding in his beak the knot of blue ribbon that tied up a curtain of muslin, falling on either side of the table, where appeared little ivory-handled brushes, two slender silver candlesticks, a porcelain matchbox, several pretty trays for small matters, and most imposing of all, a plump blue-silk cushion, coquettishly trimmed with lace, and pink rose-buds at the corners. That cushion rather astonished Rose, in fact the whole table did, and she was thinking, with a sly smile, Uncle is a dandy, but I never should have guessed it, when he opened the door of a large closet, saying, with a careless wave of the hand, Men like plenty of room for their rattletraps, don't you think that ought to satisfy me? Rose peeped in and gave a start, though all she saw was what one usually finds in closets, clothes and boots, boxes and bags. Ah! But you see these clothes were small black-and-white frocks. The row of little boots that stood below had never been on Dr. Alex's feet. The green band-box had a gray veil straying out of it, and yes, the bag hanging on the door was certainly her own peace-bag, with a hole in one corner. She gave a quick look round the room, and understood now why it had seemed too dainty for a man, why her testament and prayer-book were on the table by the bed, and what those rose-budds meant on the blue cushion. It came upon her in one delicious burst that this little paradise was all for her, and, not knowing how else to express her gratitude, she caught Dr. Alex round the neck, saying, impetuously, Oh, Uncle, you are too good to me. I'll do anything you ask me, ride wild horses and take freezing baths, and eat bad-tasting messes, and let my clothes hang on me, to show how much I thank you for this dear, lovely room. You like it, then? But why do you think it is yours, my lass? Asked Dr. Alex, as he sat down looking well pleased, and drew his excited little niece to his knee. I don't think I know it is for me. I see it in your face, and I feel as if I didn't have to serve it. Aunt Jesse said you would spoil me, and I must not let you. I'm afraid this looks like it, and perhaps, oh, me, perhaps I ought not to have this beautiful room after all. And Rose tried to look as if she could be heroic enough to give it up if it was best. I owe Mrs. Jesse one for that, said Dr. Alex, trying to frown, though in his secret soul he felt that she was quite right. Then he smiled that cordial smile which was like sunshine on his brown face, as he said. This is part of the cure, Rose, and I put you here that you might take my three great remedies in the best and easiest way. Beauty of sun, fresh air and cold water, also cheerful surroundings and some work, for Phoebe is to show you how to take care of this room, and be your little maid as well as friend and teacher. Does that sound hard and disagreeable to you, dear? No, sir, very, very pleasant, and I'll do my best to be a good patient, but I really don't think anyone could be sick in this delightful room, she said, with a long sigh of happiness as her eye went from one pleasant object to another. Then you like my sort of medicine better than Aunt Myra's, and don't want to throw it out the window, hey? CHAPTER VII This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. CHAPTER VII A TRIP TO CHINA Come, little girl, I've got another dose for you. I fancy you won't take it as well as you did the last, but you will like it better after a while, said Dr. Alec, about a week after the grand surprise. Rose was sitting in her pretty room where she would gladly have spent all her time, if it had been allowed, but she looked up with a smile, for she had ceased to fear her uncle's remedies, and was always ready to try a new one. The last had been a set of light gardening tools, with which she had helped him put the flower beds in order, learning all sorts of new and pleasant things about the plants as she worked, for, though she had studied botany in school, it seemed very dry stuff, compared with Uncle Alec's lively lesson. What is it now, she asked, shutting her work-box without a murmur? Saltwater. How must I take it? Put on the new suit Miss Hemming sent home yesterday, and come down to the beach, then I'll show you. Yes, sir, answered Rose obediently, adding to herself with a shiver as he went off. It is too early for bathing, so I know it is something to do with a dreadful boat. Moving on the new suit of blue flannel, predile-trimmed with white and the little sailor hat with long streamers, diverted her mind from the approaching trial, till a shrill whistle reminded her that her uncle was waiting. Away she ran through the garden, down the sandy path, out upon the strip of beach that belonged to the house, and here she found Dr. Alec busy with a slender red-and-white boat that lay rocking on the rising tide. What is a dear little boat, and Bonnie Bell is a pretty name, she said, trying not to show how nervous she felt? It is for you, so sit in the stern and learn to steer, till you are ready to learn to row. Do all boats wiggle about in that way? She asked, lingering as if to tie her hat more firmly. Oh, yes, pitch about like nutshells when the sea is a bit rough, answered her sailor uncle, never guessing her secret woe. Is it rough to-day? Not very. It looks a trifle squally to the eastward, but we are all right till the wind changes. Come. Can you swim, uncle, asked Rose clutching at his arm as he took her hand? Like a fish. Now then. Oh, please hold me very tight till I get there. Why do you have the stern so far away? And stifling several squeaks of alarm in her passage, Rose crept to the distant seat, and sat there holding on with both hands and looking as if she expected every wave to bring a sudden shipwreck. Uncle Alec took no notice of her fear, but patiently instructed her in the art of steering, till she was so absorbed in remembering which was starboard and which larboard that she forgot to say, Ow! every time a big wave slapped against the boat. Now, where shall we go, she asked, as the wind blew freshly in her face, and a few long, swift strokes sent them half across the little bay. Suppose we go to China. Isn't that a rather long voyage? Not as I go. Steer round the point into the harbour, and I'll give you a glimpse of China in twenty minutes or so. I should like that, and Rose sat wondering what he meant while she enjoyed the new sights all about her. Behind them the green antel sloped gently upward to the grove at the top, and all along the seaward side stood familiar houses, stately, cozy, or picturesque, as they rounded the point the great bay opened before them full of shipping, and the city lay beyond its spires rising above the tall masts with their gay streamers. Are we going there, she asked, for she had never seen this aspect of the rich and busy old city before. Yes, Uncle Mac has a ship just in from Hong Kong, and I thought you would like to go and see it. Oh, I should. I love dearly to go poking about in the warehouses with Uncle Mac. Everything is so curious and new to me, and I'm specially interested in China because you have been there. I'll show you two genuine Chinamen who have just arrived. You will like to welcome Wang Lo and Fun Xi, I'm sure. Don't ask me to speak to them, Uncle. I shall be sure to laugh at the odd names in the pigtails and the slanting eyes. Please let me just trot round after you. I like that best. Very well. Now steer towards the wharf where the big ship with the queer flag is. That's the Raja, and we will go aboard if we can. In among the ships they went, by the wharves where the water was green and still, and queer barnacles grew on the slippery piles. Odd smells saluted her nose, and odd sights met her eyes. But Rose liked it all, and played she was really landing in Hong Kong when they glided up to the steps in the shadow of the tall Raja. Boxes and bales were rising out of the hold and being carried into the warehouse by stout porters, who tugged and bald and clattered about with small trucks, or worked cranes with iron claws that came down and clutched heavy weights, whisking them aloft to wear wide doors like mouths swallowed them up. Dr. Alec took her aboard the ship, and she had the satisfaction of poking her inquisitive little nose into every available corner, at the risk of being crushed, lost, or drowned. Well, child, how would you like to take a voyage round the world with me in a jolly-hold craft like this?" asked her uncle as they rested a minute in the captain's cabin. I should like to see the world, but not in such a small, untidy, smelly place as this. We would go in a yacht all clean and comfortable. Stanley says that is the proper way, answered Rose, surveying the close quarters with little favour. You are not a true campel if you don't like the smell of tar and saltwater, nor Charlie either with his luxurious yacht. Now come ashore and chinch in with the celestials. After a delightful progress through the great warehouse, peeping and picking as they went, they found Uncle Mac and the yellow gentleman in his private room, where samples, gifts, atrocities, and newly-arrived treasures of all sorts were piled up in pleasing profusion and confusion. As soon as possible Rose retired to a corner, with a porcelain god on one side, a green dragon on the other, and what was still more embarrassing, Fun C sat on a tea-chest in front and stared at her with his beady black eyes till she did not know where to look. Mr. Wang Loh was an elderly gentleman in American costume, with his pigtail neatly wound round his head. He spoke English and was talking busily with Uncle Mac in the most commonplace way, so Rose considered him a failure. But Fun C was delightfully Chinese, from his junk-like shoes to the button on his pagoda hat, for he had got himself up in style, and was a mass of silk-jackets and slouchy trousers. He was short in fat and waddled comically. His eyes were very slanting, as Rose said. His queue was long, and so were his nails. His yellow face was plump and shiny, and he was altogether a highly satisfactory Chinaman. Uncle Alec told her that Fun C had come out to be educated, and could only speak a little Pigeon English. So she must be kind to the poor fellow, for he was only a lad, though he looked nearly as old as Mr. Wang Loh. Rose said she would be kind, but had not the least idea how to entertain the queer guest, who looked as if he had walked out of one of the rice-paper landscapes on the wall, and sat nodding at her so like a toy mandarin that she could hardly keep sober. In the midst of her polite perplexity, Uncle Mac saw the two young people gazing wistfully at one another, and seemed to enjoy the joke of this making acquaintance under difficulties. Taking a box from his table he gave it to Fun C, with an order that seemed to please him very much. Descending from his perch he fell to unpacking it with great neatness and dispatch, while Rose watched him wondering what was going to happen. Presently out from the wrappings came a teapot which caused her to clasp her hands with delight, for it was made in the likeness of a plump little Chinaman. His hat was the cover, his cue the handle, and his pipe the nose. It stood upon feet in shoes turned up at the toes, and the smile on the fat sleepy face was so like that on Fun's when he displayed the teapot that Rose couldn't help laughing, which pleased him very much. Two pretty cups with covers and a fine scarlet tray completed the set, and made one long to have a dish of tea, even in Chinese style, without cream or sugar. When he had arranged them on a little table before her, Fun signified in pantomime that they were hers from her uncle. She returned her thanks in the same way, whereupon he returned to his tea-chest and, having no other means of communication, they sat smiling and nodding at one another in an absurd sort of way till a new idea seemed to strike Fun. Tumbling off his seat he waddled away as fast as his petticoats permitted, leaving Rose hoping that he had not gone to get a roasted rat, a stewed puppy, or any other foreign mess which civility would oblige her to eat. While she waited for her funny new friend, she improved her mind in a way that would have charmed Aunt Jane. The gentlemen were talking over all sorts of things, and she listened attentively, storing up much of what she heard, for she had an excellent memory and longed to distinguish herself by being able to produce some useful information when reproached with her ignorance. She was just trying to impress upon her mind that Amoy was two hundred and eighty miles from Hong Kong, when Fun came scuffling back, bearing what she thought was a small sword, till he unfurled an immense fan and presented it with a string of Chinese compliments, the meaning of which would have amused her even more than the sound, if she could have understood it. She had never seen such an astonishing fan, and at once became absorbed in examining it. Of course there was no perspective whatever, which only gave it a peculiar charm to Rose, for in one place a lovely lady, with blue knitting needles in her hair, sat directly upon the spire of a stately pagoda. In another charming view a brook appeared to flow in at the front door of a stout gentleman's house, and out at his chimney. In a third a zigzag wall went up into the sky like a flash of lightning, and a bird with two tails was apparently brooding over a fisherman whose boat was just going aground upon the moon. It was altogether a fascinating thing, and she would have sat wafting it to and fro all the afternoon, to Fun's great satisfaction, if Dr. Alec's attention had not suddenly been called to her by a breeze from the big fan that blew his hair into his eyes, and reminded him that they must go. So the pretty china was repacked, Rose furled her fan, and with several parcels of choice tea for the old ladies, stowed away in Dr. Alec's pockets, they took their leave, after Fun had saluted them with the three bendings and the nine knockings, as they salute the emperor or son of heaven at home. I feel as if I had really bended china, and I'm sure I look so, said Rose, as they glided out of the shadow of the Raja. She certainly did, for Mr. Wang Loh had given her a Chinese umbrella, Uncle Alec had got some lanterns to light up her balcony, the great fan lay in her lap, and the tea set reposed at her feet. This is not a bad way to study geography, is it, asked her uncle, who had observed her attention to the talk. It is a very pleasant way, and I really think I have learned more about china today than in all the lessons I had at school, though I used to rattle off the answers as fast as I could go. No one explained anything to us, so all I remember is that tea and silk come from there, and the women have little bits of feet. I saw Fun looking at mine, and he must have thought them perfectly immense, answered Rose, surveying her stout boots with sudden contempt. We will have out the maps in the globe, and I'll show you some of my journeys, telling stories as we go. That will be the next best to doing it, actually. Your sofon of travelling, I should think it would be very dull for you here, Uncle. Do you know Aunt Plenty says she is sure you will be off in a year or two? Very likely. Oh, me, what shall I do then, sighed Rose, in a tone of despair that made Uncle Alex face Brighton with a look of genuine pleasure, as he said significantly. Next time I go I shall take my little anchor with me. How will that suit? Really, Uncle? Really, niece? Rose gave a little bounce of rapture which caused the boat to wiggle in a way that speedily quieted her down. But she sat beaming joyfully and trying to think which of some hundred questions she would ask first, when Dr. Alex said, pointing to a boat that was coming up behind them in great style. How well those fellows row! Look at them and take notes for your own use, by and by. The stormy petrol was manned by half a dozen jaunty-looking sailors who made a fine display of blue shirts and shiny hats, with stars and anchors in every direction. How beautifully they go, and they are only boys! Why, I do believe they are our boys! Yes, I see Charlie laughing over his shoulder. Row, Uncle, row! Oh, please do, and not let them catch up with us! cried Rose, in such a state of excitement that the new umbrella nearly went overboard. All right, here we go! And away they did go, with a long, steady sweep of the oars that carried the bonny bell through the water with a rush. The lads pulled their prettiest, but Dr. Alex would have reached the point first if Rose, in her flurry, had not retarded him by jerking the rudder ropes in a most unseemly way, and just as she got right again her hat blew off. That put an end to the race, and while they were still fishing for the hat, the other boat came alongside, with all the oars in the air, and the jolly young tar's ready for a frolic. Did you catch a crab, Uncle? No, a blue fish, he answered, as the dripping hat was landed on a seat to dry. What have you been doing? Seeing fun. Good for you, Rose, I know what you mean. We are going to have him up to show us how to fly the big kite, for we can't get the hang of it. Isn't he great fun, though? No, little fun. Come stop joking and show us what you've got. You'd better hoist that fan for a sail. Len Dandy, your umbrella, he hates to burn his pretty nose. I say, Uncle, are you going to have a feast of lanterns? No, I'm going to have a feast of bread and butter for its tea-time. If that black cloud doesn't lie, we shall have a gust before long, so you had better get home as soon as you can, or your mother will be anxious, Archie. Aye, aye, Skipper, good night, Rose, come out often and we'll teach you all there is to know about rowing, was Charlie's modest invitation. Then the boats parted company and across the water, from the petrol's crew came a verse from one of the nonsense songs in which the boys delighted. Oh, Timbaloo, how happy we are. We live in a sieve and a crockery jar, and all night long in the starlight pail, we sail away with a pea-green sail, and whistle and warble a moony song, to the echoing sound of a coppery gul, far and few, far and few are the land where the jumblies live. Their heads are green, and their hands are blue, and they went to sea in a sieve. End of Chapter 7