Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

his books and got on so finely that we have let him alone, though

his mother groans over his manners. Polish him up a bit, I beg of

you, for it is high time he mended his odd ways and did justice to

the fine gifts he hides behind them,” said Uncle Mac, scandalized

at the bluntness of his son.

“I know my chestnut burr too well to mind his prickles. But others

do not, so I will take him in hand and make him a credit to his

family,” answered Rose readily.

“Take Archie for your model he’s one of a thousand, and the girl

who gets him gets a prize, I do assure you,” added Uncle Mac, who

found matchmaking to his taste and thought that closing remark a

deep one.

“Oh, me, how tired I am!” cried Rose, dropping into a chair as the

last carriage rolled away somewhere between one and two.

“What is your opinion now, Miss Campbell?” asked the doctor,

addressing her for the first time by the name which had been

uttered so often that night.

“My opinion is that Miss Campbell is likely to have a gay life if

she goes on as she has begun, and that she finds it very delightful

so far,” answered the girl, with lips still smiling from their first

taste of what the world calls pleasure.

Chapter 4 THORNS AMONG THE ROSES

For a time everything went smoothly, and Rose was a happy girl.

The world seemed a beautiful and friendly place, and fulfillment

of her brightest dreams appeared to be a possibility. Of course this

could not last, and disappointment was inevitable, because young

eyes look for a Paradise and weep when they find a workaday

world which seems full of care and trouble till one learns to

gladden and glorify it with high thoughts and holy living.

Those who loved her waited anxiously for the disillusion which

must come in spite of all their cherishing, for till now Rose had

been so busy with her studies, travels, and home duties that she

knew very little of the triumphs, trials, and temptations of

fashionable life. Birth and fortune placed her where she could not

well escape some of them, and Dr. Alec, knowing that experience

is the best teacher, wisely left her to learn this lesson as she must

many another, devoutly hoping that it would not be a hard one.

October and November passed rapidly, and Christmas was at hand,

with all its merry mysteries, home gatherings, and good wishes.

Rose sat in her own little sanctum, opening from the parlor, busily

preparing gifts for the dear five hundred friends who seemed to

grow fonder and fonder as the holidays drew near. The drawers of

her commode stood open, giving glimpses of dainty trifles, which

she was tying up with bright ribbons.

A young girl’s face at such moments is apt to be a happy one, but

Rose’s was very grave as she worked, and now and then she threw

a parcel into the drawer with a careless toss, as if no love made the

gift precious. So unusual was this expression that it struck Dr. Alec

as he came in and brought an anxious look to his eyes, for any

cloud on that other countenance dropped its shadow over his.

“Can you spare a minute from your pretty work to take a stitch in

my old glove?” he asked, coming up to the table strewn with

ribbon, lace, and colored papers.

“Yes, Uncle, as many as you please.?

The face brightened with sudden sunshine; both hands were put

out to receive the shabby driving glove, and the voice was full of

that affectionate alacrity which makes the smallest service sweet.

“My Lady Bountiful is hard at work, I see. Can I help in any way?”

he asked, glancing at the display before him.

“No, thank you, unless you can make me as full of interest and

pleasure in these things as I used to be. Don’t you think preparing

presents a great bore, except for those you love and who love

you?” she added in a tone which had a slight tremor in it as she