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

she used to do when she was a little girl confessing some misdeed: 

"Uncle, I must tell you, for I've been getting very envious, 

discontented, and bad lately. No, don't be good to me yet, for you 

don't know how little I deserve it. Scold me well, and make me see 

how wicked I am." 

 

"I will as soon as I know what I am to scold about. Unburden 

yourself, child, and let me see all your iniquity, for if you begin by 

being jealous of Mac and Phebe, I'm prepared for anything," said 

Dr. Alec, leaning back as if nothing could surprise him now. 

 

"But I am not jealous in that way, sir. I mean I want to be or do 

something splendid as well as they. I can't write poetry or sing like 

a bird, but I should think I might have my share of glory in some 

way. I thought perhaps I could paint, and I've tried, but I can only 

copy I've no power to invent lovely things, and I'm so discouraged, 

for that is my one accomplishment. Do you think I have any gift 

that could be cultivated and do me credit like theirs?" she asked so 

wistfully that her uncle felt for a moment as if he never could 

forgive the fairies who endow babies in their cradles for being so 

niggardly to his girl. But one look into the sweet, open face before 

him reminded him that the good elves had been very generous and 

he answered cheerfully: "Yes, I do, for you have one of the best 

and noblest gifts a woman can possess. Music and poetry are fine 

things, and I don't wonder you want them, or that you envy the 

pleasant fame they bring. I've felt just so, and been ready to ask 

why it didn't please heaven to be more generous to some people, so 

you needn't be ashamed to tell me all about it." 

 

"I know I ought to be contented, but I'm not. My life is very 

comfortable, but so quiet and uneventful, I get tired of it and want 

to launch out as the others have, and do something, or at least try. 

I'm glad you think it isn't very bad of me, and I'd like to know what 

my gift is," said Rose, looking less despondent already. 

 

"The art of living for others so patiently and sweetly that we enjoy 

it as we do the sunshine, and are not half grateful enough for the 


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