"What shall you wear at this new sort of party of yours?" askedAnnabel, wisely turning a deaf ear to all delicate or dangerous topicsand keeping to matters she understood.
"That white thing over there. It is fresh and pretty, and Phebe hasone like it. I never want to dress more than she does; and gowns ofthat sort are always most appropriate and becoming to girls of ourage."
"Phebe! you don't mean to say you are going to make a lady of _her_!"gasped Annabel, upsetting her treasures, as she fell back with agesture that made the little chair creak again; for Miss Bliss was asplump as a partridge.
"She _is_ one already, and anybody who slights her slights me; for sheis the best girl I know and the dearest," cried Rose, warmly.
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nbsp; "Yes, of course,--I was only surprised,--you are quite right; for she_may_ turn out to be somebody, and then how glad you'll feel that youwere so good to her!" said Annabel, veering round at once, seeingwhich way the wind blew.
Before Rose could speak again, a cheery voice called from the hall,--
"Little mistress, where are you?"
"In my room, Phebe, dear," and up came the girl Rose was going to"make a lady of," looking so like one that Annabel opened herchina-blue eyes, and smiled involuntarily as Phebe dropped a littlecourtesy in playful imitation of her old manner, and said quietly,--
"How do you do, Miss Bliss?"
"Glad to see you back, Miss Moore," answered Annabel, shaking hands ina way that settled the question of Phebe's place in _her_ mind forever; for the stout damsel had a kind heart in spite of a weak head,and was really fond of Rose. It was evidently, "Love me, love myPhebe;" so she made up her mind on the spot that Phebe _was_ somebody,and that gave an air of romance even to the poor-house.
She could not help staring a little, as she watched the two friendswork together, and listened to their happy talk over each new treasureas it came to light; for every look and word plainly showed that yearsof close companionship had made them very dear to one another. It waspretty to see Rose try to do the hardest part of any little jobherself: still prettier to see Phebe circumvent her, and untie thehard knots, fold the stiff papers, or lift the heavy trays with herown strong hands; and prettiest of all to hear her say in a motherlytone, as she put Rose into an easy chair,--
"Now, my deary, sit and rest; for you will have to see company allday, and I can't let you get tired out so early."
"That is no reason why I should let you either. Call Jane to help orI'll bob up again directly," answered Rose, with a very badassumption of authority.
"Jane may take my place downstairs; but no one shall wait on you hereexcept me, as long as I'm with you," said stately Phebe, stooping toput a hassock under the feet of her little mistress.
"It is very nice and pretty to see; but I don't know what people_will_ say when she goes into society with the rest of us. I do hopeRose won't be _very_ odd," said Annabel to herself as she went away tocirculate the depressing news that there was to be no grand ball; and,saddest disappointment of all, that Rose had not a single Pariscostume with which to refresh the eyes and rouse the envy of heramiable friends.
"Now I've seen or heard from all the boys but Charlie, and I supposehe is too busy. I wonder what he is about," thought Rose, turning fromthe hall door, whither she had courteously accompanied her guest.
The wish was granted a moment after; for, going into the parlor todecide where some of her pictures should hang, she saw a pair of bootsat one end of the sofa, a tawny-brown head at the other, anddiscovered that Charlie was busily occupied in doing nothing.
"The voice of the Bliss was heard in the land, so I dodged till shewent upstairs, and then took a brief _siesta_ while waiting to pay myrespects to the distinguished traveller, Lady Hester Stanhope," hesaid, leaping up to make his best bow.
"The voice of the sluggard would be a more appropriate quotation, Ithink. Does Annabel still pine for you?" asked Rose, recalling certainyouthful jokes upon the subject of unrequited affections.
"Not a bit of it. Fun has cut me out, and the fair Annabella will beMrs. Tokio before the winter is over, if I'm not much mistaken."
"What, little Fun See? How droll it seems to think of him grown up andmarried to Annabel of all people! She never said a word about him; butthis accounts for her admiring my pretty Chinese things, and being sointerested in Canton."
"Little Fun is a great swell now, and much enamoured of our fatfriend, who will take to chopsticks whenever he says the word. Ineedn't ask how you do, cousin; for you beat that Aurora all hollow inthe way of color. I should have been up before, but I thought you'dlike a good rest after your voyage."
"I was running a race with Jamie before nine o'clock. What were youdoing, young man?"
"'Sleeping I dreamed, love, dreamed, love, of thee,'"
began Charlie; but Rose cut him short by saying as reproachfully asshe could, while the culprit stood regarding her with placidsatisfaction,--
"You ought to have been up and at work like the rest of the boys. Ifelt like a drone in a hive of very busy bees, when I saw them allhurrying off to their business."
"But, my dear girl, I've got no business. I'm making up my mind, yousee, and do the ornamental while I'm deciding. There always ought tobe one gentleman in a family, and that seems to be rather my line,"answered Charlie, posing for the character, with an assumption oflanguid elegance which would have been very effective if his twinklingeyes had not spoilt it.
"There are none _but_ gentlemen in our family, I hope," answered Rose,with the proud air she always wore when any thing was said derogatoryto the name of Campbell.
"Of course, of course. I should have said gentleman of leisure. Yousee it is against my principles to slave as Archie does. What's theuse? Don't need the money, got plenty; so why not enjoy it, and keepjolly as long as possible? I'm sure cheerful people are publicbenefactors in this world of woe."
It was not easy to object to this proposition, especially when made bya comely young man, who looked the picture of health and happiness ashe sat on the arm of the sofa, smiling at his cousin in the mostengaging manner. Rose knew very well that the Epicurean philosophy wasnot the true one to begin life upon; but it was difficult to reasonwith Charlie, because he always dodged sober subjects, and was so fullof cheery spirits, one hated to lessen the sort of sunshine whichcertainly is a public benefactor.
"You have such a clever way of putting things that I don't know how tocontradict you, though I still think I'm right," she said gravely."Mac likes to idle as well as you; but he is not going to do it,because he knows it's bad for him to fritter away his time. He isgoing to study a profession like a wise boy; though he would muchprefer to live among his beloved books, or ride his hobbies in peace."
"That's all very well for _him_, because _he_ doesn't care forsociety, and may as well be studying medicine as philandering aboutthe woods with his pockets full of musty philosophers andold-fashioned poets," answered Charlie, with a shrug which plainlyexpressed his opinion of Mac.
"I wonder if musty philosophers, like Socrates and Aristotle, andold-fashioned poets, like Shakspeare and Milton, are not safer companyfor him to keep than some of the more modern friends you have?" saidRose, remembering Jamie's hints about wild oats; for she could be alittle sharp sometimes, and had not lectured "the boys" for so long itseemed unusually pleasant.
But Charlie changed the subject skilfully by exclaiming with ananxious expression,--
"I do believe you are going to be like Aunt Jane; for that's just theway she comes down on me whenever she gets a chance! Don't take herfor a model, I beg: she is a good woman, but a mighty disagreeableone, in my humble opinion."
The fear of being disagreeable is a great bugbear to a girl, as thisartful young man well knew, and Rose fell into the trap at once; forAunt Jane was far from being her model, though she could not helprespecting her worth.
"Have you given up your painting?" she asked rather abruptly, turningto a gilded Fra Angelico angel which leaned in the sofa corner.
"Sweetest face I ever saw, and very like you about the eyes, isn'tit?" said Charlie, who seemed to have a Yankee trick of replying toone question with another.
"I want an answer, not a compliment," and Rose tried to look severe,as she put away the picture more quickly than she took it up.
"Have I given up painting? Oh, no! I daub a little in oils, slop alittle in water-colors, sketch now and then, and poke about thestudios when the artistic fit comes on."
"How is the music?"
"More flourishing. I don't practise much, but sing a good deal incompany. Set up a guitar last summer, and went troubadouring round ingreat style. The girls like it, and it's jolly among the fellows."
"Are you studying any thing?"
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bsp; "Well, I have some law books on my table,--good, big, wise-lookingchaps,--and I take a turn at them semi-occasionally, when pleasurepalls or parents chide. But I doubt if I do more than learn what 'aallybi' is this year," and a sly laugh in Charlie's eye suggested thathe sometimes availed himself of this bit of legal knowledge.
"What _do_ you do then?"
"Fair catechist, I enjoy myself. Private theatricals have been therage of late, and I have won such laurels that I seriously think ofadopting the stage as my profession."
"Really!" cried Rose, alarmed.
"Why not? if I _must_ go to work, isn't that as good as any thing?"
"Not without more talent than I think you possess. With genius one cando any thing: without it one had better let the stage alone."
"There's a quencher for the 'star of the goodlie companie' to which Ibelong. Mac hasn't a ray of genius for any thing, yet you admire himfor trying to be an M.D.," cried Charlie, rather nettled by her words.
"It is respectable, at all events; and I'd rather be a second-ratedoctor than a second-rate actor. But I know you don't mean it, andonly say so to frighten me."
"Exactly. I always bring it up when any one begins to lecture, and itworks wonders. Uncle Mac turns pale, the aunts hold up their hands inholy horror, and a general panic ensues. Then I magnanimously promisenot to disgrace the family; and in the first burst of gratitude thedear souls agree to every thing I ask; so peace is restored, and I goon my way rejoicing."
"Just the way you used to threaten to run off to sea, if your motherobjected to any of your whims. You are not changed in that respect,though you are in others. You had great plans and projects once,Charlie; and now you seem to be contented with being a 'jack of alltrades and master of none.'"
"Boyish nonsense! Time has brought wisdom; and I don't see the senseof tying myself down to one particular thing, and grinding away at ityear after year. People of one idea get so deucedly narrow and tame,I've no patience with them. Culture is the thing; and the sort onegets by ranging over a wide field is the easiest to acquire, thehandiest to have, and the most successful in the end. At any rate, itis the kind I like, and the only kind I intend to bother myselfabout."
With this declaration, Charlie smoothed his brow, clasped his handsover his head, and, leaning back, gently warbled the chorus of acollege song, as if it expressed his views of life better than hecould:--
"While our rosy fillets shed Blushes o'er each fervid head, With many a cup and many a smile The festal moments we beguile."
"Some of my saints here were people of one idea; and, though they werenot very successful in a worldly point of view while alive, they wereloved and canonized when dead," said Rose, who had been turning over apile of photographs upon the table, and, just then, found herfavorite, St. Francis, among them.
"This is more to my taste. Those worn-out, cadaverous fellows give methe blues; but here's a gentlemanly saint, who takes things easy, anddoes good as he goes along, without howling over his own sins, ormaking other people miserable by telling them of theirs." And Charlielaid a handsome St. Martin beside the brown-frocked monk.
Rose looked at both, and understood why her cousin preferred thesoldierly figure with the sword to the ascetic with his crucifix. Onewas riding bravely through the world in purple and fine linen, withhorse and hound, and squires at his back; the other was in alazar-house, praying over the dead and dying. The contrast was astrong one; and the girl's eyes lingered longest on the knight, thoughshe said thoughtfully,--
"Yours is certainly the pleasantest: and yet I never heard of any gooddeed he did, except divide his cloak with a beggar; while my St.Francis gave himself to charity just when life was most tempting, andspent years working for God without reward. He's old and poor, and ina dreadful place, but I won't give him up; and you may have your gaySt. Martin, if you want him."
"No, thank you; saints are not in my line: but I'd like thegolden-haired angel in the blue gown, if you'll let me have her. Sheshall be my little Madonna, and I'll pray to her like a goodCatholic," answered Charlie, turning to the delicate, deep-eyedfigure, with the lilies in its hand.
"With all my heart, and any others that you like. Choose some foryour mother, and give them to her with my love."
So Charlie sat down beside Rose to turn and talk over the pictures fora long and pleasant hour. But when they went away to lunch, if therehad been any one to observe so small but significant a trifle, goodSt. Francis lay face downward behind the sofa, while gallant St.Martin stood erect upon the chimney-piece.