“This old chap was the laughingstock of his class. They called him
Don Quixote, and the way he went at windmills of all sorts was a
sight to see,” put in Charlie, evidently feeling that Mac had been
patted on the head quite as much as was good for him.
“But in spite of that the Don got through college with all the
honors. Oh, wasn’t I proud when Aunt Jane wrote to us about it and
didn’t she rejoice that her boy kept at the head of his class and won
the medal!” cried Rose, shaking Mac by both hands in a way that
caused Charlie to wish “the old chap” had been left behind with
Dr. Alec.
“Oh, come, that’s all Mother’s nonsense. I began earlier than the
other fellows and liked it better, so I don’t deserve any praise.
Prince is right, though. I did make a regular jack of myself, but on
the whole I’m not sure that my wild oats weren’t better than some
I’ve seen sowed. Anyway, they didn’t cost much, and I’m none the
worse for them,” said Mac placidly.
“I know what ‘wild oats’ means. I heard Uncle Mac say Charlie was
sowing ’em too fast, and I asked Mama, so she told me. And I
know that he was suspelled or expended, I don’t remember which,
but it was something bad, and Aunt Clara cried,” added Jamie all
in one breath, for he possessed a fatal gift of making malapropos
remarks, which caused him to be a terror to his family.
“Do you want to go on the box again?” demanded Prince with a
warning frown.
“No, I don’t.?
“Then hold your tongue.?
“Well, Mac needn’t kick me, for I was only…” began the culprit,
innocently trying to make a bad matter worse.
“That will do,” interrupted Charlie sternly, and James subsided, a
crushed boy, consoling himself with Rose’s new watch for the
indignities he suffered at the hands of the “old fellows” as he
vengefully called his elders.
Mac and Charlie immediately began to talk as hard as their
tongues could wag, bringing up all sorts of pleasant subjects so
successfully that peals of laughter made passersby look after the
merry load with sympathetic smiles.
An avalanche of aunts fell upon Rose as soon as she reached
home, and for the rest of the day the old house buzzed like a
beehive. Evening found the whole tribe collected in the drawing
rooms, with the exception of Aunt Peace, whose place was empty
now.
Naturally enough, the elders settled into one group after a while,
and the young fellows clustered about the girls like butterflies
around two attractive flowers. Dr. Alec was the central figure in
one room and Rose in the other, for the little girl, whom they had
all loved and petted, had bloomed into a woman, and two years of
absence had wrought a curious change in the relative positions of
the cousins, especially the three elder ones, who eyed her with a
mixture of boyish affection and manly admiration that was both
new and pleasant.
Something sweet yet spirited about her charmed them and piqued
their curiosity, for she was not quite like other girls, and rather
startled them now and then by some independent little speech or
act which made them look at one another with a sly smile, as if
reminded that Rose was “Uncle’s girl.?
Let us listen, as in duty bound, to what the elders are saying first,
for they are already building castles in air for the boys and girls to
inhabit.
“Dear child how nice it is to see her safely back, so well and happy
and like her sweet little self!” said Aunt Plenty, folding her hands
as if giving thanks for a great happiness.
“I shouldn’t wonder if you found that you’d brought a firebrand into
the family, Alec. Two, in fact, for Phebe is a fine girl, and the lads
have found it out already if I’m not mistaken,” added Uncle Mac,
with a nod toward the other room.
All eyes followed his, and a highly suggestive tableau presented
itself to the paternal and maternal audience in the back parlor.