Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

“It’s ‘only Mac,’ so don’t mind,” and he cast himself into an

opposite corner with the air of a man who had nerved himself to

the accomplishment of many painful duties and was bound to do

them or die.

“But gentlemen don’t catch up ladies like bags of meal and poke

them into carriages in this way. It is evident that you need looking

after, and it is high time I undertook your society manners. Now,

do mind what you are about and don’t get yourself or me into a

scrape if you can help it,” besought Rose, feeling that on many

accounts she had gone further and fared worse.

“I’ll behave like a Turveydrop see if I don’t.?

Mac’s idea of the immortal Turveydrop’s behavior seemed to be a

peculiar one; for, after dancing once with his cousin, he left her to

her own devices and soon forgot all about her in a long

conversation with Professor Stumph, the learned geologist. Rose

did not care, for one dance proved to her that that branch of Mac’s

education had been sadly neglected, and she was glad to glide

smoothly about with Steve, though he was only an inch or two

taller than herself. She had plenty of partners, however, and plenty

of chaperons, for all the young men were her most devoted, and all

the matrons beamed upon her with maternal benignity.

Charlie was not there, for when he found that Rose stood firm, and

had moreover engaged Mac as a permanency, he would not go at

all and retired in high dudgeon to console himself with more

dangerous pastimes. Rose feared it would be so, and even in the

midst of the gaiety about her an anxious mood came over her now

and then and made her thoughtful for a moment. She felt her

power and wanted to use it wisely, but did not know how to be

kind to Charlie without being untrue to herself and giving him

false hopes.

“I wish we were all children again, with no hearts to perplex us

and no great temptations to try us,” she said to herself as she rested

a minute in a quiet nook while her partner went to get a glass of

water. Right in the midst of this half-sad, half-sentimental reverie,

she heard a familiar voice behind her say earnestly: “And allophite

is the new hydrous silicate of alumina and magnesia, much

resembling pseudophite, which Websky found in Silesia.?

“What is Mac talking about!” she thought, and, peeping behind a

great azalea in full bloom, she saw her cousin in deep conversation

with the professor, evidently having a capital time, for his face had

lost its melancholy expression and was all alive with interest,

while the elder man was listening as if his remarks were both

intelligent and agreeable.

“What is it?” asked Steve, coming up with the water and seeing a

smile on Rose’s face.

She pointed out the scientific t€te-…-t€te going on behind the

azalea, and Steve grinned as he peeped, then grew sober and said

in a tone of despair: “If you had seen the pains I took with that

fellow, the patience with which I brushed his wig, the time I spent

trying to convince him that he must wear thin boots, and the fight I

had to get him into that coat, you’d understand my feelings when I

see him now.?

“Why, what’s the matter with him?” asked Rose.

“Will you take a look and see what a spectacle he has made of

himself. He’d better be sent home at once or he will disgrace the

family by looking as if he’d been in a row.?

Steve spoke in such a tragic tone that Rose took another peep and

did sympathize with Dandy, for Mac’s elegance was quite gone.

His tie was under one ear, his posy hung upside down, his gloves

were rolled into a ball, which he absently squeezed and pounded as

he talked, and his hair looked as if a whirlwind had passed over it,

for his ten fingers set it on end now and then, as they had a habit of

doing when he studied or talked earnestly. But he looked so happy

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