Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

make them and feeling peculiarly important, as this was their first

essay in New Year’s call-making. Brief was their stay, for they

planned to visit every friend they had, and Rose could not help

laughing at the droll mixture of manly dignity and boyish delight

with which they drove off in their own carriage, both as erect as

ramrods, arms folded, and caps stuck at exactly the same angle on

each blond head.

“Here comes the other couple Steve, in full feather, with a big

bouquet for Kitty, and poor Mac, looking like a gentleman and

feeling like a martyr, I’m sure,” said Rose, watching one carriage

turn in as the other turned out of the great gate, with its arch of

holly, ivy, and evergreen.

“Here he is. I’ve got him in tow for the day and want you to cheer

him up with a word of praise, for he came without a struggle

though planning to bolt somewhere with Uncle,” cried Steve,

falling back to display his brother, who came in looking

remarkably well in his state and festival array, for polishing had

begun to tell.

“A happy New Year, Aunty, same to you, Cousin, and best wishes

for as many more as you deserve,” said Mac, heeding Steve no

more than if he had been a fly as he gave the old lady a hearty kiss

and offered Rose a quaint little nosegay of pansies.

“Heart’s-ease do you think I need it?” she asked, looking up with

sudden sobriety.

“We all do. Could I give you anything better on a day like this??

“No thank you very much.” And a sudden dew came to Rose’s

eyes, for, though often blunt in speech, when Mac did do a tender

thing, it always touched her because he seemed to understand her

moods so well.

“Has Archie been here? He said he shouldn’t go anywhere else, but

I hope you talked that nonsense out of his head,” said Steve,

settling his tie before the mirror.

“Yes, dear, he came but looked so out of spirits I really felt

reproached. Rose cheered him up a little, but I don’t believe he will

feel equal to making calls and I hope he won’t, for his face tells the

whole story much too plainly,” answered Aunty Plenty, rustling

about her bountiful table in her richest black silk with all her old

lace on.

“Oh, he’ll get over it in a month or two, and Phebe will soon find

another lover, so don’t be worried about him, Aunty,” said Steve,

with the air of a man who knew all about that sort of thing.

“If Archie does forget, I shall despise him, and I know Phebe won’t

try to find another lover, though she’ll probably have them she is so

sweet and good!” cried Rose indignantly, for, having taken the pair

under her protection, she defended them valiantly.

“Then you’d have Arch hope against hope and never give up,

would you?” asked Mac, putting on his glasses to survey the thin

boots which were his especial abomination.

“Yes, I would, for a lover is not worth having if he’s not in

earnest!?

“Exactly. So you’d like them to wait and work and keep on loving

till they made you relent or plainly proved that it was no use.?

“If they were good as well as constant, I think I should relent in

time.?

“I’ll mention that to Pemberton, for he seemed to be hit the hardest,

and a ray of hope will do him good, whether he is equal to the ten

years’ wait or not,” put in Steve, who liked to rally Rose about her

lovers.

“I’ll never forgive you if you say a word to anyone. It is only Mac’s

odd way of asking questions, and I ought not to answer them. You

will talk about such things and I can’t stop you, but I don’t like it,”

said Rose, much annoyed.

“Poor little Penelope! She shall not be teased about her suitors but

left in peace till her Ulysses comes home,” said Mac, sitting down

to read the mottoes sticking out of certain fanciful bonbons on the

table.

“It is this fuss about Archie which has demoralized us all. Even the

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