Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
Coming Home
Old Friends with New Faces
Miss Campbell
Thorns Among the Roses
Prince Charming
Polishing Mac
Phebe
Breakers Ahead
New Year's Calls
The Sad and Sober Part
Small Temptations
At Kitty's Ball
Both Sides
Aunt Clara's Plan
Alas for Charlie!
Good Works
Among the Haycocks
Which Was It?
Behind the Fountain
What Mac Did
How Phebe Earned Her Welcome
Short and Sweet

slowly, "I particularly wanted to read it, and fancied I might, 

because you did 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 to 

me!" 

 

"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 romance 

and 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, 

then looked 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 

symptoms pleased him. 

 

"But I really don't see any harm in the book so far. It is by a 

famous author, wonderfully well written, as you know, and the 

characters so lifelike that I feel as if I should really meet them 

somewhere." 

 

"I hope not!" ejaculated the doctor, shutting the book quickly, as if 

to keep the objectionable beings from escaping. 

 

Rose laughed, but persisted in her defense, for she did want to 

finish the absorbing story, yet would not without leave. 

 

"I have read French novels before, and you gave them to me. Not 

many, to be sure, but the best, so I think I know what is good and 

shouldn't like this if it was harmful." 

 

Her uncle's answer was to reopen the volume and turn the leaves 

an instant as if to find a particular place. Then he put it into her 

hand, saying quietly: "Read a page or two aloud, translating as you 

go. You used to like that try it again." 

 

Rose obeyed and went glibly down a page, doing her best to give 

the sense in her purest English. Presently she went more slowly, 

then skipped a sentence here and there, and finally stopped short, 

looking as if she needed a screen again. 

 

"What's the matter?" asked her uncle, who had been watching her 

with a serious eye. 

 

"Some phrases are untranslatable, and it only spoils them to try. 

They are not amiss in French, but sound coarse and bad in our 


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