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

lookers turned involuntarily toward the bed, where Aunt Peace 

used to greet them with a smile. There was no sweet old face upon 

the pillow now, yet the tears that wet the blooming cheeks were 

not for her who had gone, but for her who was left, because they 

saw something which spoke eloquently of the love which outlives 

death and makes the humblest things beautiful and sacred. 

 

A well-worn footstool stood beside the bed, and in the high-piled 

whiteness of the empty couch there was a little hollow where a 

gray head nightly rested while Aunt Plenty said the prayers her 

mother taught her seventy years ago. 

 

Without a word, the girls softly shut the door. And while Phebe put 

the room in the most exquisite order, Rose retrimmed the plain 

white cap, where pink and yellow ribbons never rustled now, both 

feeling honored by their tasks and better for their knowledge of the 

faithful love and piety which sanctified a good old woman's life. 

 

"You darling creature, I'm so glad to get you back! I know it's 

shamefully early, but I really couldn't keep away another minute. 

Let me help you I'm dying to see all your splendid things. I saw the 

trunks pass and I know you've quantities of treasures," cried 

Annabel Bliss all in one breath as she embraced Rose an hour later 

and glanced about the room bestrewn with a variety of agreeable 

objects. 

 

"How well you are looking! Sit down and I'll show you my lovely 

photographs. Uncle chose all the best for me, and it's a treat to see 

them," answered Rose, putting a roll on the table and looking 

about for more. 

 

"Oh, thanks! I haven't time now one needs hours to study such 

things. Show me your Paris dresses, there's a dear I'm perfectly 

aching to see the last styles," and Annabel cast a hungry eye 

toward certain large boxes delightfully suggestive of French finery. 

 

"I haven't got any," said Rose, fondly surveying the fine 

photographs as she laid them away. 

 

"Rose Campbell! You don't mean to say that you didn't get one 

Paris dress at least?" cried Annabel, scandalized at the bare idea of 

such neglect. 

 

"Not one for myself. Aunt Clara ordered several, and will be 


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