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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

for the same energy and persistence which he brought to business 

went into everything he did, and having once made up his mind to 

marry Phebe, nothing could change this plan except a word from 



He watched and waited for three months, so that he might not be 

accused of precipitation, though it did not take him one to decide 

that this was the woman to make him happy. Her steadfast nature, 

quiet, busy ways, and the reserved power and passion betrayed 

sometimes by a flash of the black eyes, a quiver of the firm lips, 

suited Archie, who possessed many of the same attributes himself. 

The obscurity of her birth and isolation of her lot, which would 

have deterred some lovers, not only appealed to his kindly heart, 

but touched the hidden romance which ran like a vein of gold 

through his strong common sense and made practical, steady-going 

Archie a poet when he fell in love. If Uncle Mac had guessed what 

dreams and fancies went on in the head bent over his ledgers, and 

what emotions were fermenting in the bosom of his staid 

"right-hand man," he would have tapped his forehead and 

suggested a lunatic asylum. The boys thought Archie had sobered 

down too soon. His mother began to fear that the air of the 

counting room did not suit him, and Dr. Alec was deluded into the 

belief that the fellow really began to "think of Rose," he came so 

often in the evening, seeming quite content to sit beside her 

worktable and snip tape or draw patterns while they chatted. 


No one observed that, though he talked to Rose on these occasions, 

he looked at Phebe, in her low chair close by, busy but silent, for 

she always tried to efface herself when Rose was near and often 

mourned that she was too big to keep out of sight. No matter what 

he talked about, Archie always saw the glossy black braids on the 

other side of the table, the damask cheek curving down into the 

firm white throat, and the dark lashes, lifted now and then, 

showing eyes so deep and soft he dared not look into them long. 

Even the swift needle charmed him, the little brooch which rose 

and fell with her quiet breath, the plain work she did, and the tidy 

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