I never thought it the proper school for a child in good circumstances—an heiress, in fact, as Rose is. It is all very well for girls who are to get their own living by teaching, and that sort of thing; but all she needs is a year or two at a fashionable finishing school, so that at eighteen she can come out with eclat,” put in Aunt Clara, who had been a beauty and a belle, and was still a handsome woman.

“Dear, dear! how short-sighted you all are to be discussing education and plans for the future, when this unhappy child is so plainly marked for the tomb,” sighed Aunt Myra, with a lugubrious sniff and a solemn wag of the funereal bonnet, which she refused to remove, being afflicted with a chronic catarrh.

“Now, it is my opinion that the dear thing only wants freedom, rest, and care. There is look in her eyes that goes to my heart, for it shows that she feels the need of what none of us can give her—a mother,” said Aunt Jessie, with tears in her own bright eyes at the thought of her boys being left, as Rose was, to the care of others.

Uncle Alec, who had listened silently as each spoke, turned quickly towards the last sister, and said, with a decided nod of approval—

“You’ve got it, Jessie; and, with you to help me, I hope to make the child feel that she is not quite fatherless and motherless.”

“I’ll do my best, Alec; and I think you will need me, for, wise as you are, you cannot understand a tender, timid little creature like Rose as a woman can,” said Mrs. Jessie, smiling back at him with a heart full of motherly goodwill.

“I cannot help feeling that I, who have had a daughter of my own, can best bring up a girl; and I am very much surprised that George did not entrust her to me,” observed Aunt Myra, with an air of melancholy importance, for she was the only one who had given a daughter to the family, and she felt that she had distinguished herself, though ill-natured people said that she had dosed her darling to death.

“I never blamed him in the least, when I remember the perilous experiments you tried with poor Carrie,” began Mrs. Jane, in her hard voice.

“Jane Campbell, I will not hear a word! My sainted Caroline is a sacred object,” cried Aunt Myra, rising as if to leave the room.

Dr. Alec detained her, feeling that he must define his position at once, and maintain it manfully if he hoped to have any success in his new undertaking.

“Now, my dear souls, don’t let us quarrel and make Rose a bone of contention—though, upon my word, she is almost a bone, poor little lass! You have had her among you for a year, and done what you liked. I cannot say that your success is great, but that is owing to too many fingers in the pie. Now, I intend to try my way for a year, and if at the end of it she is not in better trim than now, I’ll give up the case, and hand her over to someone else. That’s fair, I think.”

“She will not be here a year hence, poor darling, so no one need dread future responsibility,” said Aunt Myra, folding her black gloves as if all ready for the funeral.

“By Jupiter! Myra, you are enough to damp the ardour of a saint!” cried Dr. Alec, with a sudden spark in his eyes. “Your croaking will worry that child out of her wits, for she is an imaginative puss, and will fret and fancy untold horrors. You have put it into her head that she has no constitution, and she rather likes the idea. If she had not had a pretty good one, she would have been ‘marked for the tomb’ by this time, at the rate you have been going on with her. I will not have any interference—please understand that; so just wash your hands of her, and let me manage till I want help, then I’ll ask for it.”

“Hear, hear!” came from the corner where Uncle Mac was apparently wrapt in slumber.


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