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

hopeful expression which always made her feel as if he was 

heaping coals of fire on her head. 

 

"I wish you wouldn't look at me in that way it fidgets me," she said 

a little petulantly, for she had been out riding, and knew that she 

did not present a "spiritual" appearance after the frosty air had 

reddened nose as well as cheeks. 

 

"I'll try to remember. It does itself before I know it. Perhaps this 

may mend matters." And, taking out the blue glasses he sometimes 

wore in the wind, he gravely put them on. 

 

Rose could not help laughing, but his obedience only aggravated 

her, for she knew he could observe her all the better behind his 

ugly screen. 

 

"No, it won't they are not becoming, and I don't want to look blue 

when I do not feel so," she said, finding it impossible to guess 

what he would do next or to help enjoying his peculiarities. 

 

"But you don't to me, for in spite of the goggles everything is 

rose-colored now." And he pocketed the glasses without a murmur 

at the charming inconsistency of his idol. 

 

"Really, Mac, I'm tired of this nonsense, it worries me and wastes 

your time." 

 

"Never worked harder. But does it really trouble you to know I 

love you?" he asked anxiously. 

 

"Don't you see how cross it makes me?" And she walked away, 

feeling that things were not going as she intended to have them at 

all. 

 

"I don't mind the thorns if I get the rose at last, and I still hope I 

may, some ten years hence," said this persistent suitor, quite 

undaunted by the prospect of a "long wait." 

 

"I think it is rather hard to be loved whether I like it or not," 

objected Rose, at a loss how to make any headway against such 

indomitable hopefulness. 

 

"But you can't help it, nor can I so I must go on doing it with all 

my heart till you marry, and then well, then I'm afraid I may hate 

somebody instead," and Mac spoilt the pen by an involuntary slash 

of his knife. 

 

"Please don't, Mac!" 

 

"Do which, love or hate?" 

 

"Don't do either go and care for someone else; there are plenty of 

nice girls who will be glad to make you happy," said Rose, intent 

upon ending her disquiet in some way. 

 

"That is too easy. I enjoy working for my blessings, and the harder 


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