Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

you doing, young man??

” ‘Sleeping I dreamed, love, dreamed, love, of thee,’ ” began

Charlie, but Rose cut him short by saying as reproachfully as she

could, while the culprit stood regarding her with placid

satisfaction: “You ought to have been up and at work like the rest

of the boys. I felt like a drone in a hive of very busy bees when I

saw them all hurrying off to their business.?

“But, my dear girl, I’ve got no business. I’m making up my mind,

you see, and do the ornamental while I’m deciding. There always

ought to be one gentleman in a family, and that seems to be rather

my line,” answered Charlie, posing for the character with an

assumption of languid elegance which would have been very

effective if his twinkling eyes had not spoilt it.

“There are none but gentlemen in our family, I hope,” answered

Rose, with the proud air she always wore when anything was said

derogatory to the name of Campbell.

“Of course, of course. I should have said gentleman of leisure. You

see it is against my principles to slave as Archie does. What’s the

use? Don’t need the money, got plenty, so why not enjoy it and

keep jolly as long as possible? I’m sure cheerful people are public

benefactors in this world of woe.?

It was not easy to object to this proposition, especially when made

by a comely young man who looked the picture of health and

happiness as he sat on the arm of the sofa smiling at his cousin in

the most engaging manner. Rose knew very well that the

Epicurean philosophy was not the true one to begin life upon, but

it was difficult to reason with Charlie because he always dodged

sober subjects and was so full of cheery spirits, one hated to lessen

the sort of sunshine which certainly is a public benefactor.

“You have such a clever way of putting things that I don’t know

how to contradict 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 is

going to study a profession like a wise boy, though he would much

prefer to live among his beloved books or ride his hobbies in

peace.?

“That’s all very well for him, because he doesn’t care for society

and may as well be studying medicine as philandering about the

woods with his pockets full of musty philosophers and

old-fashioned poets,” answered Charlie with a shrug which plainly

expressed his opinion of Mac.

“I wonder if musty philosophers, like Socrates and Aristotle, and

old-fashioned poets, like Shakespeare and Milton, are not safer

company for him to keep than some of the more modern friends

you have?” said Rose, remembering Jamie’s hints about wild oats,

for she could be a little sharp sometimes and had not lectured “the

boys” for so long it seemed unusually pleasant.

But Charlie changed the subject skillfully by exclaiming with an

anxious expression: “I do believe you are going to be like Aunt

Jane, for that’s just the way she comes down on me whenever she

gets the chance! Don’t take her for a model, I beg she is a good

woman but a mighty disagreeable one in my humble opinion.?

The fear of being disagreeable is a great bugbear to a girl, as this

artful young man well knew, and Rose fell into the trap at once,

for Aunt Jane was far from being her model, though she could not

help respecting her worth.

“Have you given up your painting?” she asked rather abruptly,

turning to a gilded Fra Angelico angel which leaned in the sofa

corner.

“Sweetest face I ever saw, and very like you about the eyes, isn’t

it?” said Charlie, who seemed to have a Yankee trick of replying to

one 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 had taken

it up.

“Have I given up painting? Oh, no! I daub a little in oils, slop a

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