"Here you are, then--no--yes--I do believe I've forgotten it, afterall!" cried Jamie, slapping his pockets one after the other, with adismayed expression of countenance.
"Never mind: I'll hunt up something else. Let me help with those: yourhands are so cold." And Rose, good-naturedly gave a tug at the boots,while Jamie clutched the banisters; murmuring somewhat incoherently,as his legs flew up and down,--
"I'll go back if you want me to. I'm so sorry! It's very good of you,I'm sure. Getting these horrid things on made me forget. Mother wouldmake me wear 'em, though I told her they'd stick like--like gumdrops,"he added, inspired by recollections of certain dire disappointmentswhen the above-mentioned sweetmeat melted in his pockets, and refusedto come out.
"Now what shall we do?" asked Rose, when he was finally extricated."Since I've nothing to read, I may as well play."
"I'll teach you to pitch and toss. You catch very well for a girl, butyou can't throw worth a cent," replied Jamie, gambading down the hallin his slippers, and producing a ball from some of the mysteriousreceptacles in which boys have the art of storing rubbish enough tofill a peck measure.
Of course Rose agreed, and cheerfully risked getting her eyesblackened and her fingers bruised, till her young preceptor gratefullyobserved that "it was no fun playing where you had to look out forwindows and jars and things; so I'd like that jolly book about CaptainNemo and the 'Nautilus,' please."
Being gratified, he spread himself upon the couch, crossed his legs inthe air, and without another word dived "Twenty Thousand Leagues Underthe Sea," where he remained for two mortal hours, to the generalsatisfaction of his relatives.
Bereft both of her unexpected playfellow and the much-desired book,Rose went into the parlor, there to discover a French novel, whichKitty had taken from a library and left in the carriage among thebundles. Settling herself in her favorite lounging-chair, she read asdiligently as Jamie, while the wind howled and snow fell fast without.
For an hour, nothing disturbed the cosey quiet of the house; for AuntPlenty was napping upstairs, and Dr. Alec writing in his own sanctum;at least, Rose thought so, till his step made her hastily drop thebook, and look up with very much the expression she used to wear whencaught in mischief years ago.
"Did I startle you? Have a screen: you are burning your face beforethis hot fire." And Dr. Alec pulled one forward.
"Thank you, uncle; I didn't feel it." And the color seemed to deepenin spite of the screen, while the uneasy eyes fell upon the book inher lap.
"Have you got the 'Quarterly' there? I want to glance at an article init, if you can spare it for a moment," he said, leaning toward herwith an inquiring glance.
"No, sir: I am reading--" And, without mentioning the name, Rose putthe book into his hand.
The instant his eye fell on the title, he understood the look shewore, and knew what "mischief" she had been in. He knit his brows:then smiled, because it was impossible to help it; Rose looked soconscience-stricken in spite of her twenty years.
"How do you find it?--interesting?"
"Oh, very! I felt as if I was in another world, and forgot all aboutthis."
"Not a very good world, I fancy, if you were afraid or ashamed to befound in it. Where did this come from?" asked Dr. Alec, surveying thebook with great disfavor.
Rose told him, and added slowly,--
"I particularly wanted to read it, and fancied I might, because youdid when it was so much talked about the winter we were in Rome."
"I did read it to see if it was fit for you."
"And decided that it was not, I suppose; since you never gave it tome?"
"Yes."
"Then I won't finish it. But, uncle, I don't see why I should not,"added Rose, wistfully; for she had reached the heart of the romanceand found it wonderfully fascinating.
"You may not _see_, but don't you _feel_ why not?" asked Dr. Alec,gravely.
Rose leaned her flushed cheek on her hand and thought a minute; thenlooked up, and answered honestly,--
"Yes, I do: but can't explain it; except that I know something _must_be wrong, because I blushed and started when you came in."
"Exactly," and the doctor gave an emphatic nod, as if the symptomspleased him.
"But I really don't see any harm in the book so far. It is by a famousauthor, wonderfully well written as you know, and the characters solife-like that I feel as if I should really meet them somewhere."
"I hope not!" ejaculated the doctor, shutting the book quickly, as ifto keep the objectionable beings from escaping.
Rose laughed, but persisted in her defence; for she did want tofinish the absorbing story, yet would not without leave.
"I have read French novels before, and you gave them to me. Not manyto be sure, but the best; so I think I know what is good, andshouldn't like this if it was harmful."
Her uncle's answer was to reopen the volume and turn the leaves aninstant as if to find a particular place; then he put it into herhand, saying quietly,--
"Read a page or two aloud, translating as you go. You used to likethat: try it again."
Rose obeyed, and went glibly down a page, doing her best to give thesense in her purest English. Presently she went more slowly, thenskipped a sentence here and there, and finally stopped short, lookingas if she needed a screen again.
"What's the matter?" asked her uncle, who had been watching her with aserious eye.
"Some phrases are untranslatable, and it only spoils them to try. Theyare not amiss in French, but sound coarse and bad in our bluntEnglish," she said a little pettishly; for she felt annoyed by herfailure to prove the contested point.
"Ah, my dear! if the fine phrases won't bear putting into honestEnglish, the thoughts they express won't bear putting into yourinnocent mind. That chapter is the key to the whole book; and if youhad been led up, or rather down, to it artfully and artistically, youmight have read it to yourself without seeing how bad it is. All theworse for the undeniable talent which hides the evil so subtly andmakes the danger so delightful."
He paused a moment, then added with an anxious glance at the book,over which she was still bending,--
"Finish it if you choose: only remember, my girl, that one may read atforty what is unsafe at twenty, and that we never can be too carefulwhat food we give that precious yet perilous thing calledimagination."
And taking his "Review" he went away to look over a learned articlewhich interested him much less than the workings of a young mind nearby.
Another long silence, broken only by an occasional excited bounce fromJamie, when the sociable cuttle-fish looked in at the windows, or the"Nautilus" scuttled a ship or two in its terrific course. A bell rang,and the doctor popped his head out to see if he was wanted. It wasonly a message for Aunt Plenty, and he was about to pop in again whenhis eye was caught by a square parcel on the slab.
"What's this?" he asked, taking it up.
"Rose wants me to leave it at Kitty Van's when I go. I forgot to bringher book from mamma; so I shall go and get it as soon as ever I'vedone
this," replied Jamie, from his nest.
As the volume in his hands was a corpulent one, and Jamie only a thirdof the way through, Dr. Alec thought Rose's prospect rather doubtful;and, slipping the parcel into his pocket, he walked away, saying witha satisfied air,--
"Virtue doesn't always get rewarded; but it shall be this time, if Ican do it."
More than half an hour afterward, Rose woke from a little nap, andfound the various old favorites, with which she had tried to solaceherself, replaced by the simple, wholesome story promised by AuntJessie.
"Good boy! I'll go and thank him," she said, half-aloud; jumping up,wide awake and much pleased.
But she did not go; for, just then, she espied her uncle standing onthe rug warming his hands with a generally fresh and breezy look abouthim, which suggested a recent struggle with the elements.
"How did this come?" she asked suspiciously.
"A man brought it."
"This man? O uncle! why did you take so much trouble just to gratify awish of mine?" she cried, taking both the cold hands in hers, with atenderly reproachful glance from the storm without to the ruddy faceabove her.
"Because, having taken away your French bonbons with the poisonouscolor on them, I wanted to get you something better. Here it is, allpure sugar; the sort that sweetens the heart as well as the tongue,and leaves no bad taste behind."
"How good you are to me! I don't deserve it; for I didn't resisttemptation, though I tried. Uncle, after I'd put the book away, Ithought I _must_ just see how it ended, and I'm afraid I should haveread it all if it had not been gone," said Rose, laying her face downon the hands she held, as humbly as a repentant child.
But Uncle Alec lifted up the bent head, and looking into the eyes thatmet his frankly, though either held a tear, he said, with the energythat always made his words remembered,--
"My little girl, I would face a dozen storms far worse than this tokeep your soul as stainless as snow; for it is the small temptationswhich undermine integrity, unless we watch and pray, and never thinkthem too trivial to be resisted."
Some people would consider Dr. Alec an over-careful man: but Rose feltthat he was right; and, when she said her prayers that night, added ameek petition to be kept from yielding to three of the small temptationswhich beset a rich, pretty, and romantic girl,--extravagance, coquetry,and novel-reading.