Main  Contacts  
Table of contents
Coming Home
Old Friends with New Faces
Miss Campbell
Thorns Among the Roses
Prince Charming
Polishing Mac
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

brightened as she went on, and at the last word, uttered almost 

involuntarily, he actually laughed low to himself, as if this order 

into exile pleased him much. 


"Don't say that you give nothing, when you've just shown me that 

I'm getting on. I'll go; I'll go at once, and see if absence won't help 

you 'to think, to know, and to be sure' as it did me. I wish I could 

do something more for you. As I can't, good-bye." 


"Are you going now?" And Rose paused in her retreat to look back 

with a startled face as he offered her a badly made pen and opened 

the door for her just as Dr. Alec always did; for, in spite of 

himself, Mac did resemble the best of uncles. 


"Not yet, but you seem to be." 


Rose turned as red as a poppy, snatched the pen, and flew upstairs, 

to call herself hard names as she industriously spoiled all Aunt 

Plenty's new pocket handkerchiefs by marking them "A.M.C." 


Three days later Mac said "good-bye" in earnest, and no one was 

surprised that he left somewhat abruptly, such being his way, and a 

course of lectures by a famous physician the ostensible reason for 

a trip to L----. Uncle Alec deserted most shamefully at the last 

moment by sending word that he would be at the station to see the 

traveler off, Aunt Plenty was still in her room, so when Mac came 

down from his farewell to her, Rose met him in the hall, as if 

anxious not to delay him. She was a little afraid of another 

tete-a-tete, as she fared so badly at the last, and had assumed a 

calm and cousinly air which she flattered herself would plainly 

show on what terms she wished to part. 


Mac apparently understood, and not only took the hint, but 

surpassed her in cheerful composure, for, merely saying 

"Good-bye, Cousin; write when you feel like it," he shook hands 

and walked out of the house as tranquilly as if only a day instead 

of three months were to pass before they met again. Rose felt as if 

a sudden shower bath had chilled her and was about to retire, 

saying to herself with disdainful decision: "There's no love about it 

after all, only one of the eccentricities of genius," when a rush of 

cold air made her turn to find herself in what appeared to be the 

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