Rose in Bloom - Part 13
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Part 13

"What put such a perfectly wild idea into your head?" he demanded, rather roughly; for hitherto he _had_ been "left in peace," and this sudden attack decidedly amazed him.

"Sheer necessity; but don't do it if it is so very dreadful to you. I must go to several more parties, because they are made for me; but after that I'll refuse, and then no one need be troubled with me."

Something in Rose's voice made Mac answer penitently, even while he knit his brows in perplexity,--

"I didn't mean to be rude; and of course I'll go anywhere if I'm really needed. But I don't understand where the sudden necessity is, with three other fellows at command, all better dancers and beaux than I am."

"I don't want them, and I do want you; for I haven't the heart to drag uncle out any more, and you know I never go with any gentleman but those of my own family."

"Now look here, Rose: if Steve has been doing any thing to tease you just mention it, and I'll attend to him," cried Mac, plainly seeing that something was amiss, and fancying that Dandy was at the bottom of it, as he had done escort duty several times lately.

"No, Steve has been very good: but I know he had rather be with Kitty Van; so of course I feel like a marplot, though he is too polite to hint it."

"What a noodle that boy is! But there's Archie: he's as steady as a church, and has no sweetheart to interfere," continued Mac, bound to get at the truth, and half suspecting what it was.

"He is on his feet all day, and Aunt Jessie wants him in the evening.

He does not care for dancing as he used, and I suppose he really does prefer to rest and read." Rose might have added, "and hear Phebe sing;" for Phebe did not go out as much as Rose did, and Aunt Jessie often came in to sit with the old lady when the young folks were away; and, of course, dutiful Archie came with her; so willingly of late!

"What's amiss with Charlie? I thought _he_ was the prince of cavaliers. Annabel says he dances 'like an angel,' and I know a dozen mothers couldn't keep him at home of an evening. Have you had a tiff with Adonis, and so fall back on poor me?" asked Mac, coming last to the person of whom he thought first, but did not mention, feeling shy about alluding to a subject often discussed behind her back.

"Yes, we have; and I don't intend to go with him any more for some time. His ways do not suit me, and mine do not suit him; so I want to be quite independent, and you can help me if you will," said Rose, rather nervously spinning the big globe close by.

Mac gave a low whistle, looking wide awake all in a minute, as he said with a gesture, as if he brushed a cobweb off his face,--

"Now, see here, cousin: I'm not good at mysteries, and shall only blunder if you put me blindfold into any nice manoeuvre. Just tell me straight out what you want, and I'll do it if I can. Play I'm uncle, and free your mind; come now."

He spoke so kindly, and the honest eyes were so full of merry good-will, that Rose felt she might confide in him, and answered as frankly as he could desire,--

"You are right, Mac; and I don't mind talking to you almost as freely as to uncle, because you are such a reliable fellow, and won't think me silly for trying to do what I believe to be right. Charlie does, and so makes it hard for me to hold to my resolutions. I want to keep early hours, dress simply, and behave properly; no matter what fashionable people do. You will agree to that, I'm sure; and stand by me through thick and thin for principle's sake."

"I will; and begin by showing you that I understand the case. I don't wonder you are not pleased; for Charlie is too presuming, and you do need some one to help you head him off a bit. Hey, cousin?"

"What a way to put it!" and Rose laughed in spite of herself, adding with an air of relief, "That _is_ it; and I do want some one to help me make him understand that I don't choose to be taken possession of in that lordly way, as if I belonged to him more than to the rest of the family. I don't like it; for people begin to talk, and Charlie won't see how disagreeable it is to me."

"Tell him so," was Mac's blunt advice.

"I have; but he only laughs and promises to behave, and then he does it again, when I am so placed that I can't say any thing. You will never understand, and I cannot explain; for it is only a look, or a word, or some little thing: but I won't have it, and the best way to cure him is to put it out of his power to annoy me so."

"He is a great flirt, and wants to teach you how, I suppose. I'll speak to him if you like, and tell him you don't want to learn. Shall I?" asked Mac, finding the case rather an interesting one.

"No, thank you: that would only make trouble. If you will kindly play escort a few times, it will show Charlie that I am in earnest without more words, and put a stop to the gossip," said Rose, coloring like a poppy at the recollection of what she heard one young man whisper to another, as Charlie led her through a crowded supper-room with his most devoted air, "Lucky dog! he is sure to get the heiress, and we are nowhere."

"There's no danger of people's gossiping about us, is there?" and Mac looked up, with the oddest of all his odd expressions.

"Of course not: you're only a boy."

"I'm twenty-one, thank you; and Prince is but a couple of years older," said Mac, promptly resenting the slight put upon his manhood.

"Yes; but he is like other young men, while you are a dear old bookworm. No one would ever mind what _you_ did; so you may go to parties with me every night, and not a word would be said; or, if there was, I shouldn't mind since it is 'only Mac,'" answered Rose, smiling as she quoted a household word often used to excuse his vagaries.

"Then _I_ am n.o.body?" lifting his brows, as if the discovery surprised and rather nettled him.

"n.o.body in society as yet; but my very best cousin in private, and I've just proved my regard by making you my confidant, and 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 to-morrow 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 any thing 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, Doctor 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 on 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 b.u.t.ton-hole, and the expression of a martyr upon 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 I 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 a curl on my forehead; for I'm not used to such elegancies, and 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 her 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 by 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 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 the rug in which he was about to tuck her up like a mummy.

"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.