Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott

and cream color and every hair on her head curled in a Merry

Pecksniffian crop, for youth was her strong point, and she much

enjoyed the fact that she had been engaged three times before she

was nineteen.

To see her and Steve spin around the room was a sight to bring a

smile to the lips of the crustiest bachelor or saddest spinster, for

happy lovers are always a pleasing spectacle, and two such merry

little grigs as these are seldom seen.

Mac, meantime, with glasses astride his nose, surveyed his

brother’s performances “on the light fantastic” very much as a

benevolent Newfoundland would the gambols of a toy terrier,

receiving with thanks the hasty hints for his guidance which Steve

breathed into his ear as he passed and forgetting all about them the

next minute. When not thus engaged Mac stood about with his

thumbs in his vest pockets, regarding the lively crowd like a

meditative philosopher of a cheerful aspect, often smiling to

himself at some whimsical fancy of his own, knitting his brows as

some bit of ill-natured gossip met his ear, or staring with

undisguised admiration as a beautiful face or figure caught his eye.

“I hope that girl knows what a treasure she has got. But I doubt if

she ever fully appreciates it,” said Mrs. Jane, bringing her

spectacles to bear upon Kitty as she whisked by, causing quite a

gale with her flying skirts.

“I think she will, for Steve has been so well brought up, she cannot

but see and feel the worth of what she has never had, and being so

young she will profit by it,” answered Mrs. Jessie softly, thinking

of the days when she and her Jem danced together, just betrothed.

“I’ve done my duty by both the boys, and done it thoroughly, or

their father would have spoilt them, for he’s no more idea of

discipline than a child.” And Aunt Jane gave her own palm a smart

rap with her closed fan, emphasizing the word “thoroughly” in a

most suggestive manner.

“I’ve often wished I had your firmness, Jane but after all, I’m not

sure that I don’t like my own way best, at least with my boys, for

plenty of love, and plenty of patience, seem to have succeeded

pretty well.” And Aunt Jessie lifted the nosegay from her lap,

feeling as if that unfailing love and patience were already

blooming into her life as beautifully as the sweet-breathed roses

given by her boy refreshed and brightened these long hours of

patient waiting in a corner.

“I don’t deny that you’ve done well, Jessie, but you’ve been let

alone and had no one to hold your hand or interfere. If my Mac had

gone to sea as your Jem did, I never should have been as severe as

I am. Men are so perverse and shortsighted, they don’t trouble

about the future as long as things are quiet and comfortable in the

present,” continued Mrs. Jane, quite forgetting that the

shortsighted partner of the firm, physically speaking at least, was

herself.

“Ah, yes! We mothers love to foresee and foretell our children’s

lives even before they are born, and are very apt to be disappointed

if they do not turn out as we planned. I know I am yet I really have

no cause to complain and am learning to see that all we can do is

to give the dear boys good principles and the best training we may,

then leave them to finish what we have begun.” And Mrs. Jessie’s

eye wandered away to Archie, dancing with Rose, quite

unconscious what a pretty little castle in the air tumbled down

when he fell in love with Phebe.

“Right, quite right on that point we agree exactly. I have spared

nothing to give my boys good principles and good habits, and I am

willing to trust them anywhere. Nine times did I whip my Steve to

cure him of fibbing, and over and over again did Mac go without

his dinner rather than wash his hands. But I whipped and starved

them both into obedience, and now I have my reward,” concluded

the “stern parent” with a proud wave of the fan, which looked very