The old glove lay upon the floor forgotten while Rose sat musing,till a quick step sounded in the hall and a voice drew near,tunefully humming.

sang Rose as the voice paused and a tap came at the door.

"Good morning, Rosamunda, here are your letters, and your mostdevoted ready to execute any commissions you may have for him,"was Charlie's greeting as he came in looking comely, gay, anddebonair as usual.

"Thanks. I've no errands unless you mail my replies, if these needanswering, so by your leave, Prince," and Rose began to open thehandful of notes he threw into her lap.

"Ha! What sight is this to blast mine eyes?" ejaculated Charlie, ashe pointed to the glove with a melodramatic start, for, like mostaccomplished amateur actors, he was fond of introducing privatetheatricals into his daily talk and conversation.

"Uncle left it."

"'Tis well. Methought perchance a rival had been here," and,picking it up, Charlie amused himself with putting it on the headof a little Psyche which ornamented the mantelpiece, softly singingas he did so, another verse of the old song:

Rose went on reading her letters, but all the while was thinking ofher conversation with her uncle as well as something elsesuggested by the newcomer and his ditty.

During the three months since her return she had seen more of thiscousin than any of the others, for he seemed to be the only onewho had leisure to "play with Rose," as they used to say years ago.The other boys were all at work, even little Jamie, many of whoseplay hours were devoted to manful struggles with Latin grammar,the evil genius of his boyish life. Dr. Alec had many affairs toarrange after his long absence; Phebe was busy with her music;and Aunt Plenty still actively superintended her housekeeping.Thus it fell out, quite naturally, that Charlie should form the habitof lounging in at all hours with letters, messages, bits of news, andagreeable plans for Rose. He helped her with her sketching, rodewith her, sang with her, and took her to parties as a matter ofcourse, for Aunt Clara, being the gaiest of the sisters, playedchaperon on all occasions.

For a time it was very pleasant, but, by and by, Rose began to wishCharlie would find something to do like the rest and not makedawdling after her the business of his life. The family was used tohis self-indulgent ways, and there was an amiable delusion in theminds of the boys that he had a right to the best of everything, forto them he was still the Prince, the flower of the flock, and in timeto be an honor to the name. No one exactly knew how, for, thoughfull of talent, he seemed to have no especial gift or bias, and theelders began to shake their heads because, in spite of many grandpromises and projects, the moment for decisive action never came.

Rose saw all this and longed to inspire her brilliant cousin withsome manful purpose which should win for him respect as well asadmiration. But she found it very hard, for though he listened withimperturbable good humor, and owned his shortcomings withdelightful frankness, he always had some argument, reason, orexcuse to offer and out-talked her in five minutes, leaving hersilenced but unconvinced.

Of late she had observed that he seemed to feel as if her time andthoughts belonged exclusively to him and rather resented theapproach of any other claimant. This annoyed her and suggestedthe idea that her affectionate interest and efforts weremisunderstood by him, misrepresented and taken advantage of byAunt Clara, who had been most urgent that she should "use herinfluence with the dear boy," though the fond mother resented allother interference. This troubled Rose and made her feel as ifcaught in a snare, for, while she owned to herself that Charlie wasthe most attractive of her cousins, she was not ready to be takenpossession of in this masterful way, especially since other andsometimes better men sought her favor more humbly.

These thoughts were floating vaguely in her mind as she read herletters and unconsciously influenced her in the chat that followed.

"Only invitations, and I can't stop to answer them now or I shallnever get through this job," she said, returning to her work.

"Let me help. You do up, and I'll direct. Have a secretary, do now,and see what a comfort it will be," proposed Charlie, who couldturn his hand to anything and had made himself quite at home inthe sanctum.

"I'd rather finish this myself, but you may answer the notes if youwill. Just regrets to all but two or three. Read the names as you goalong and I'll tell you which."

"To hear is to obey. Who says I'm a 'frivolous idler' now?" AndCharlie sat down at the writing table with alacrity, for these hoursin the little room were his best and happiest.

"Order is heaven's first law, and the view a lovely one, but I don'tsee any notepaper," he added, opening the desk and surveying itscontents with interest.

"Right-hand drawer violet monogram for the notes, plain paper forthe business letter. I'll see to that, though," answered Rose, tryingto decide whether Annabel or Emma should have the lacedhandkerchief.

"Confiding creature! Suppose I open the wrong drawer and comeupon the tender secrets of your soul?" continued the new secretary,rummaging out the delicate notepaper with masculine disregard oforder.

"I haven't got any," answered Rose demurely.

"What, not one despairing scrawl, one cherished miniature, onefaded floweret, etc., etc.? I can't believe it, Cousin," and he shookhis head incredulously.

"If I had, I certainly should not show them to you, impertinentperson! There are a few little souvenirs in that desk, but nothingvery sentimental or interesting."

"How I'd like to see 'em! But I should never dare to ask," observedCharlie, peering over the top of the half-open lid with a mostpersuasive pair of eyes.

"You may if you want to, but you'll be disappointed, Paul Pry.Lower left-hand drawer with the key in it."

"'Angel of goodness, how shall I requite thee? Interesting moment,with what palpitating emotions art thou fraught!'" And, quotingfrom the "Mysteries of Udolpho," he unlocked and opened thedrawer with a tragic gesture.

"Seven locks of hair in a box, all light, for 'here's your straw color,your orange tawny, your French crown color, and your perfectyellow' Shakespeare. They look very familiar, and I fancy I knowthe heads they thatched."

"Yes, you all gave me one when I went away, you know, and Icarried them round the world with me in that very box."

"I wish the heads had gone too. Here's a jolly little amber god witha gold ring in his back and a most balmy breath," continuedCharlie, taking a long sniff at the scent bottle.

"Uncle brought me that long ago, and I'm very fond of it."

"This now looks suspicious man's ring with a lotus cut on the stoneand a note attached. I tremble as I ask, who, when, and where?"

"A gentleman, on my birthday, in Calcutta."

"I breathe again it was my sire?"

"Don't be absurd. Of course it was, and he did everything to makemy visit pleasant. I wish you'd go and see him like a dutiful son,instead of idling here."

"That's what Uncle Mac is eternally telling me, but I don't intend tobe lectured into the treadmill till I've had my fling first," mutteredCharlie rebelliously.

"If you fling yourself in the wrong direction, you may find it hardto get back again," began Rose gravely.

"No fear, if you look after me as you seem to have promised to do,judging by the thanks you get in this note. Poor old governor! Ishould like to see him, for it's almost four years since he camehome last and he must be getting on."

Charlie was the only one of the boys who ever called his father"governor," perhaps because the others knew and loved theirfathers, while he had seen so little of his that the less respectfulname came more readily to his lips, since the elder man in truthseemed a governor issuing requests or commands, which theyounger too often neglected or resented.

Long ago Rose had discovered that Uncle Stephen found homemade so distasteful by his wife's devotion to society that hepreferred to exile himself, taking business as an excuse for hisprotracted absences.

The girl was thinking of this as she watched her cousin turn thering about with a sudden sobriety which became him well; and,believing that the moment was propitious, she said earnestly: "Heis getting on. Dear Charlie, do think of duty more than pleasure inthis case and I'm sure you never will regret it."

"Do you want me to go?" he asked quickly.

"I think you ought."

"And I think you'd be much more charming if you wouldn't alwaysbe worrying about right and wrong! Uncle Alec taught you thatalong with the rest of his queer notions."

"I'm glad he did!" cried Rose warmly, then checked herself andsaid with a patient sort of sigh, "You know women always wantthe men they care for to be good and can't help trying to makethem so."

"So they do, and we ought to be a set of angels, but I've a strongconviction that, if we were, the dear souls wouldn't like us half aswell. Would they now?" asked Charlie with an insinuating smile.

"Perhaps not, but that is dodging the point. Will you go?" persistedRose unwisely.

"No, I will not."

That was sufficiently decided and an uncomfortable pausefollowed, during which Rose tied a knot unnecessarily tight andCharlie went on exploring the drawer with more energy thaninterest.

"Why, here's an old thing I gave you ages ago!" he suddenlyexclaimed in a pleased tone, holding up a little agate heart on afaded blue ribbon. "Will you let me take away the heart of stoneand give you a heart of flesh?" he asked, half in earnest, half injest, touched by the little trinket and the recollections it awakened.

"No, I will not," answered Rose bluntly, much displeased by theirreverent and audacious question.

Charlie looked rather abashed for a moment, but his naturallightheartedness made it easy for him to get the better of his ownbrief fits of waywardness and put others in good humor with himand themselves.

"Now we are even let's drop the subject and start afresh," he saidwith irresistible affability as he coolly put the little heart in hispocket and prepared to shut the drawer. But something caught hiseye, and exclaiming, "What's this? What's this?" he snatched up aphotograph which lay half under a pile of letters with foreignpostmarks.

"Oh! I forgot that was there," said Rose hastily.

"Who is the man?" demanded Charlie, eyeing the good-lookingcountenance before him with a frown.

"That is the Honorable Gilbert Murray, who went up the Nile withus and shot crocodiles and other small game, being a mightyhunter, as I told you in my letters," answered Rose gaily, though illpleased at the little discovery just then, for this had been one of thenarrow escapes her uncle spoke of.

"And they haven't eaten him yet, I infer from the pile of letters?"said Charlie jealously.

"I hope not. His sister did not mention it when she wrote last."

"Ah! Then she is your correspondent? Sisters are dangerous thingssometimes." And Charlie eyed the packet suspiciously.

"In this case, a very convenient thing, for she tells me all about herbrother's wedding, as no one else would take the trouble to do."

"Oh! Well, if he's married, I don't care a straw about him. I fanciedI'd found out why you are such a hard-hearted charmer. But if thereis no secret idol, I'm all at sea again." And Charlie tossed thephotograph into the drawer as if it no longer interested him.

"I'm hard-hearted because I'm particular and, as yet, do not findanyone at all to my taste."

"No one?" with a tender glance.

"No one" with a rebellious blush, and the truthful addition "I seemuch to admire and like in many persons, but none quite strongand good enough to suit me. My heroes are old-fashioned, youknow."

"Prigs, like Guy Carleton, Count Altenberg, and John Halifax Iknow the pattern you goody girls like," sneered Charlie, whopreferred the Guy Livingston, Beauclerc, and Rochester style.

"Then I'm not a 'goody girl,' for I don't like prigs. I want agentleman in the best sense of the word, and I can wait, for I'veseen one, and know there are more in the world."

"The deuce you have! Do I know him?" asked Charlie, muchalarmed.

"You think you do," answered Rose with a mischievous sparkle inher eye.

"If it isn't Pem, I give it up. He's the best-bred fellow I know."

"Oh, dear, no! Far superior to Mr. Pemberton and many yearsolder," said Rose, with so much respect that Charlie lookedperplexed as well as anxious.

"Some apostolic minister, I fancy. You pious creatures always liketo adore a parson. But all we know are married."

"He isn't."

"Give a name, for pity's sake I'm suffering tortures of suspense,"begged Charlie.

"Alexander Campbell."

"Uncle? Well, upon my word, that's a relief, but mighty absurd allthe same. So, when you find a young saint of that sort, you intendto marry him, do you?" demanded Charlie much amused and ratherdisappointed.

"When I find any man half as honest, good, and noble as Uncle, Ishall be proud to marry him if he asks me," answered Rosedecidedly.

"What odd tastes women have!" And Charlie leaned his chin on hishand to muse pensively for a moment over the blindness of onewoman who could admire an excellent old uncle more than adashing young cousin.

Rose, meanwhile, tied up her parcels industriously, hoping she hadnot been too severe, for it was very hard to lecture Charlie, thoughhe seemed to like it sometimes and came to confession voluntarily,knowing that women love to forgive when the sinners are of hissort.

"It will be mail time before you are done," she said presently, forsilence was less pleasant than his rattle.

Charlie took the hint and dashed off several notes in his bestmanner. Coming to the business letter, he glanced at it and asked,with a puzzled expression: "What is all this? Cost of repairs, etc.,from a man named Buffum?"

"Never mind that I'll see to it by and by."

"But I do mind, for I'm interested in all your affairs, and thoughyou think I've no head for business, you'll find I have if you'll tryme."

"This is only about my two old houses in the city, which are beingrepaired and altered so that the rooms can be let singly."

"Going to make tenement houses of them? Well, that's not a badidea such places pay well, I've heard."

"That is just what I'm not going to do. I wouldn't have a tenementhouse on my conscience for a million dollars not as they are now,"said Rose decidedly.

"Why, what do you know about it, except that people live in themand the owners turn a pretty penny on the rents?"

"I know a good deal about them, for I've seen many such, both hereand abroad. It was not all pleasure with us, I assure you. Uncle wasinterested in hospitals and prisons, and I sometimes went withhim, but they made me sad so he suggested other charities that Icould be of help about when we came home. I visited infantschools, working women's homes, orphan asylums, and places ofthat sort. You don't know how much good it did me and how glad Iam that I have the means of lightening a little some of the miseryin the world."

"But, my dear girl, you needn't make ducks and drakes of yourfortune trying to feed and cure and clothe all the poor wretchesyou see. Give, of course everyone should do something in that lineand no one likes it better than I. But don't, for mercy's sake, go at itas some women do and get so desperately earnest, practical, andcharity-mad that there is no living in peace with you," protestedCharlie, looking alarmed at the prospect.

"You can do as you please. I intend to do all the good I can byasking the advice and following the example of the most 'earnest,''practical,' and 'charitable' people I know so, if you don't approve,you can drop my acquaintance," answered Rose, emphasizing theobnoxious words and assuming the resolute air she always worewhen defending her hobbies.

"You'll be laughed at."

"I'm used to that."

"And criticized and shunned."

"Not by people whose opinion I value."

"Women shouldn't go poking into such places."

"I've been taught that they should."

"Well, you'll get some dreadful disease and lose your beauty, andthen where are you?" added Charlie, thinking that might daunt theyoung philanthropist.

But it did not, for Rose answered, with a sudden kindling of theeyes as she remembered her talk with Uncle Alec: "I shouldn't likeit. But there would be one satisfaction in it, for when I'd lost mybeauty and given away my money, I should know who really caredfor me."

Charlie nibbled his pen in silence for a moment, then asked,meekly, "Could I respectfully inquire what great reform is to becarried on in the old houses which their amiable owner isrepairing?"

"I am merely going to make them comfortable homes for poor butrespectable women to live in. There is a class who cannot afford topay much, yet suffer a great deal from being obliged to stay innoisy, dirty, crowded places like tenement houses and cheaplodgings. I can help a few of them and I'm going to try."

"May I humbly ask if these decayed gentlewomen are to inhabittheir palatial retreat rent-free?"

"That was my first plan, but Uncle showed me that it was wiser notmake genteel paupers of them, but let them pay a small rent andfeel independent. I don't want the money, of course, and shall useit in keeping the houses tidy or helping other women in like case,"said Rose, entirely ignoring her cousin's covert ridicule.

"Don't expect any gratitude, for you won't get it; nor much comfortwith a lot of forlornities on your hands, and be sure that when it istoo late you will tire of it all and wish you had done as otherpeople do."

"Thanks for your cheerful prophecies, but I think I'll venture."

She looked so undaunted that Charlie was a little nettled and firedhis last shot rather recklessly: "Well, one thing I do know you'llnever get a husband if you go on in this absurd way, and by Jove!you need one to take care of you and keep the property together!"

Rose had a temper, but seldom let it get the better of her; now,however, it flashed up for a moment. Those last words werepeculiarly unfortunate, because Aunt Clara had used them morethan once when warning her against impecunious suitors andgenerous projects. She was disappointed in her cousin, annoyed athaving her little plans laughed at, and indignant with him for hisfinal suggestion.

"I'll never have one, if I must give up the liberty of doing what Iknow is right, and I'd rather go into the poorhouse tomorrow than'keep the property together' in the selfish way you mean!"

That was all but Charlie saw that he had gone too far and hastenedto make his peace with the skill of a lover, for, turning to the littlecabinet piano behind him, he sang in his best style the sweet oldsong:

dwelling with great effect, not only upon the tender assurance that"My plaid should shelter thee,"

but also that, even if a king,

It was very evident that Prince Charming had not gonetroubadouring in vain, for Orpheus himself could not have restoredharmony more successfully. The tuneful apology was acceptedwith a forgiving smile and a frank "I'm sorry I was cross, but youhaven't forgotten how to tease, and I'm rather out of sorts today.Late hours don't agree with me."

"Then you won't feel like going to Mrs. Hope's tomorrow, I'mafraid," and Charlie took up the last note with an expression ofregret which was very flattering.

"I must go, because it is made for me, but I can come away earlyand make up lost sleep. I do hate to be so fractious," and Roserubbed the forehead that ached with too much racketing.

"But the German does not begin till late I'm to lead and dependupon you. Just stay this once to oblige me," pleaded Charlie, for hehad set his heart on distinguishing himself.

"No I promised Uncle to be temperate in my pleasures and I mustkeep my word. I'm so well now, it would be very foolish to get illand make him anxious not to mention losing my beauty, as you aregood enough to call it, for that depends on health, you know."

"But the fun doesn't begin till after supper. Everything will bedelightful, I assure you, and we'll have a gay old time as we didlast week at Emma's."

"Then I certainly will not, for I'm ashamed of myself when Iremember what a romp that was and how sober Uncle looked as helet me in at three in the morning, all fagged out my dress in rags,my head aching, my feet so tired that I could hardly stand, andnothing to show for five hours' hard work but a pocketful ofbonbons, artificial flowers, and tissue-paper fool's caps. Uncle saidI'd better put one on and go to bed, for I looked as though I'd beento a French bal masque. I never want to hear him say so again, andI'll never let dawn catch me out in such a plight anymore."

"You were all right enough, for mother didn't object and I got youboth home before daylight. Uncle is notional about such things, soI shouldn't mind, for we had a jolly time and we were none theworse for it."

"Indeed we were, every one of us! Aunt Clara hasn't gotten overher cold yet. I slept all the next day, and you looked like a ghost,for you'd been out every night for weeks, I think."

"Oh, nonsense! Everyone does it during the season, and you'll getused to the pace very soon," began Charlie, bent on making her go,for he was in his element in a ballroom and never happier thanwhen he had his pretty cousin on his arm.

"Ah! But I don't want to get used to it, for it costs too much in theend. I don't wish to get used to being whisked about a hot room bymen who have taken too much wine, to turn day into night,wasting time that might be better spent, and grow into afashionable fast girl who can't get along without excitement. I don'tdeny that much of it is pleasant, but don't try to make me too fondof gaiety. Help me to resist what I know is hurtful, and please don'tlaugh me out of the good habits Uncle has tried so hard to giveme."

Rose was quite sincere in her appeal, and Charlie knew she wasright, but he always found it hard to give up anything he had set hisheart on, no matter how trivial, for the maternal indulgence whichhad harmed the boy had fostered the habit of self-indulgence,which was ruining the man. So when Rose looked up at him, witha very honest desire to save him as well as herself from beingswept into the giddy vortex which keeps so many young peoplerevolving aimlessly, till they go down or are cast upon the shore,wrecks of what they might have been, he gave a shrug andanswered briefly: "As you please. I'll bring you home as early asyou like, and Effie Waring shall take your place in the German.What flowers shall I send you?"

Now, that was an artful speech of Charlie's, for Miss Waring was afast and fashionable damsel who openly admired Prince Charmingand had given him the name. Rose disliked her and was sure herinfluence was bad, for youth made frivolity forgivable, wit hidwant of refinement, and beauty always covers a multitude of sinsin a man's eyes. At the sound of Effie's name, Rose wavered, andwould have yielded but for the memory of the "first mate's" lastwords. She did desire to "keep a straight course"; so, though thecurrent of impulse set strongly in a southerly direction, principle,the only compass worth having, pointed due north, and she tried toobey it like a wise young navigator, saying steadily, while shedirected to Annabel the parcel containing a capacious pair ofslippers intended for Uncle Mac: "Don't trouble yourself about me.I can go with Uncle and slip away without disturbing anybody."

"I don't believe you'll have the heart to do it," said Charlieincredulously as he sealed the last note.

"Wait and see."

"I will, but I shall hope to the last." And kissing his hand to her, hedeparted to post her letters, quite sure that Miss Waring would notlead the German.

It certainly looked for a moment as if Miss Campbell would,because she ran to the door with the words "I'll go" upon her lips.But she did not open it till she had stood a minute staring hard atthe old glove on Psyche's head; then like one who had suddenlygotten a bright idea, she gave a decided nod and walked slowly outof the room.