Charlie would find something to do like the rest and not make
dawdling after her the business of his life. The family was used to
his self-indulgent ways, and there was an amiable delusion in the
minds of the boys that he had a right to the best of everything, for
to them he was still the Prince, the flower of the flock, and in time
to be an honor to the name. No one exactly knew how, for, though
full of talent, he seemed to have no especial gift or bias, and the
elders began to shake their heads because, in spite of many grand
promises and projects, the moment for decisive action never came.
Rose saw all this and longed to inspire her brilliant cousin with
some manful purpose which should win for him respect as well as
admiration. But she found it very hard, for though he listened with
imperturbable good humor, and owned his shortcomings with
delightful frankness, he always had some argument, reason, or
excuse to offer and out-talked her in five minutes, leaving her
silenced but unconvinced.
Of late she had observed that he seemed to feel as if her time and
thoughts belonged exclusively to him and rather resented the
approach of any other claimant. This annoyed her and suggested
the idea that her affectionate interest and efforts were
misunderstood by him, misrepresented and taken advantage of by
Aunt Clara, who had been most urgent that she should “use her
influence with the dear boy,” though the fond mother resented all
other interference. This troubled Rose and made her feel as if
caught in a snare, for, while she owned to herself that Charlie was
the most attractive of her cousins, she was not ready to be taken
possession of in this masterful way, especially since other and
sometimes better men sought her favor more humbly.
These thoughts were floating vaguely in her mind as she read her
letters and unconsciously influenced her in the chat that followed.
“Only invitations, and I can’t stop to answer them now or I shall
never get through this job,” she said, returning to her work.
“Let me help. You do up, and I’ll direct. Have a secretary, do now,
and see what a comfort it will be,” proposed Charlie, who could
turn his hand to anything and had made himself quite at home in
the sanctum.
“I’d rather finish this myself, but you may answer the notes if you
will. Just regrets to all but two or three. Read the names as you go
along and I’ll tell you which.?
“To hear is to obey. Who says I’m a ‘frivolous idler’ now?” And
Charlie sat down at the writing table with alacrity, for these hours
in the little room were his best and happiest.
“Order is heaven’s first law, and the view a lovely one, but I don’t
see any notepaper,” he added, opening the desk and surveying its
contents with interest.
“Right-hand drawer violet monogram for the notes, plain paper for
the business letter. I’ll see to that, though,” answered Rose, trying
to decide whether Annabel or Emma should have the laced
handkerchief.
“Confiding creature! Suppose I open the wrong drawer and come
upon the tender secrets of your soul?” continued the new secretary,
rummaging out the delicate notepaper with masculine disregard of
order.
“I haven’t got any,” answered Rose demurely.
“What, not one despairing scrawl, one cherished miniature, one
faded floweret, etc., etc.? I can’t believe it, Cousin,” and he shook
his head incredulously.
“If I had, I certainly should not show them to you, impertinent
person! There are a few little souvenirs in that desk, but nothing
very sentimental or interesting.?
“How I’d like to see ’em! But I should never dare to ask,” observed
Charlie, peering over the top of the half-open lid with a most
persuasive pair of eyes.
“You may if you want to, but you’ll be disappointed, Paul Pry.
Lower left-hand drawer with the key in it.?
” ‘Angel of goodness, how shall I requite thee? Interesting moment,
with what palpitating emotions art thou fraught!’ ” And, quoting
from the “Mysteries of Udolpho,” he unlocked and opened the
drawer with a tragic gesture.