Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

choosing you for my knight,” said Rose, hastening to soothe the

feelings her careless words seemed to have ruffled slightly.

“Much good that is likely to do me,” grumbled Mac.

“You ungrateful boy, not to appreciate the honor I’ve conferred

upon you! I know a dozen who would be proud of the place, but

you only care for compound fractures, so I won’t detain you any

longer, except to ask if I may consider myself provided with an

escort for tomorrow night?” said Rose, a trifle hurt at his

indifference, for she was not used to refusals.

“If I may hope for the honor.” And, rising, he made her a bow

which was such a capital imitation of Charlie’s grand manner that

she forgave him at once, exclaiming with amused surprise: “Why,

Mac! I didn’t know you could be so elegant!?

“A fellow can be almost anything he likes if he tries hard enough,”

he answered, standing very straight and looking so tall and

dignified that Rose was quite impressed, and with a stately

courtesy she retired, saying graciously: “I accept with thanks. Good

morning, Dr. Alexander Mackenzie Campbell.?

When Friday evening came and word was sent up that her escort

had arrived, Rose ran down, devoutly hoping that he had not come

in a velveteen jacket, top-boots, black gloves, or made any trifling

mistake of that sort. A young gentleman was standing before the

long mirror, apparently intent upon the arrangement of his hair,

and Rose paused suddenly as her eye went from the glossy

broadcloth to the white-gloved hands, busy with an unruly lock

that would not stay in place.

“Why, Charlie, I thought ” she began with an accent of surprise in

her voice, but got no further, for the gentleman turned and she

beheld Mac in immaculate evening costume, with his hair parted

sweetly on his brow, a superior posy at his buttonhole, and the

expression of a martyr on his face.

“Ah, don’t you wish it was? No one but yourself to thank that it

isn’t he. Am I right? Dandy got me up, and he ought to know what

is what,” demanded Mac, folding his hands and standing as stiff as

a ramrod.

“You are so regularly splendid that I don’t know you.?

“Neither do I.?

“I really had no idea you could look so like a gentleman,” added

Rose, surveying him with great approval.

“Nor that I could feel so like a fool.?

“Poor boy! He does look rather miserable. What can I do to cheer

him up in return for the sacrifice he is making??

“Stop calling me a boy. It will soothe my agony immensely and

give me courage to appear in a low-necked coat and curl on my

forehead, for I’m not used to such elegancies and I find them no

end of a trial.?

Mac spoke in such a pathetic tone, and gave such a gloomy glare at

the aforesaid curl, that Rose laughed in his face and added to his

woe by handing him her cloak. He surveyed it gravely for a

minute, then carefully put it on wrong side out and gave the

swan’s-down hood a good pull over the head, to the utter

destruction of all smoothness to the curls inside.

Rose uttered a cry and cast off the cloak, bidding him learn to do it

properly, which he meekly did and then led her down the hall

without walking on her skirts more than three times on the way.

But at the door she discovered that she had forgotten her furred

overshoes and bade Mac get them.

“Never mind it’s not wet,” he said, pulling his cap over his eyes and

plunging into his coat, regardless of the “elegancies” that afflicted

him.

“But I can’t walk on cold stones with thin slippers, can I?” began

Rose, showing him a little white foot.

“You needn’t, for there you are, my lady.” And, unceremoniously

picking her up, Mac landed her in the carriage before she could say

a word.

“What an escort!” she exclaimed in comic dismay, as she rescued

her delicate dress from a rug in which he was about to tuck her up

like a mummy.

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