A Rose in June

ing between a mansion and a cottage—and within was full of useless passages, confused little rooms, and bits of staircases on which the unaccustomed passenger might break hi

, was glad to put up with these drawbacks for the sake of the low rent—so vast and so many are the changes which absence of money makes. Before Christmas Day they had all the old furniture—save some special pieces of virtu, graceful old cabinets, mirrors, and ornamental things, which were sold—arranged and adapted, and settled down in tolerable comfort. The boys, when they came from school, looked with doubtful faces at the change, especially Reginald, who was humiliated by it, and found fault with the room allotted to him, and with the deficiencies of service. “Poor! why are we poor? It must be some one’s fault,” said this boy to his sister Agatha, who cried, and declared passionately that she wished he had not come back, but had gone to his fine godfather, whom he was always talking of. When an invitation arrived for him from his godfather, some days later, I think they were all glad; for Reginald was very like his father, and could not bear anything mean or poor. The number of servants had dwindled to one, who made believe to be of all work, and

le on the Green made haste to call to express their sympathy and friendliness. Mrs. Wodehouse was the only one who did not ask to see Mrs. Damerel; but even she did not lose a day in calling; and, indeed, it was while on her way from the White House that for the first time she met Rose, who had been out about some{49}

by a third person who

by a third person who

other?” she added hastily, trying to{50} save herself from

ng to see he

see me. And how do you like the White House? I hope you have

“though it feels damp just at first; we all think we shall s

ich made Mrs. Wodehouse’s resolution “never

th an effort to appear short and stern, “or I

n, as there was a dead pause, which was awkward, sh

a kinder boy to his mother. He never forgets me; though there are many people who

d,” said

ried Mrs. Wodehouse, hurriedly running one subject into another with breathless precipitancy, “how coul

you. There was nobody there but me, and he held my hand, and would not let me leave him. I could not. Oh! how glad I am that you have asked me! It was

nd with the usual inquiry about her mother to which Rose was accustomed. The sound of his voice made Mrs. Wodehouse start with suppressed anger and dismay; and Rose looked out from the heavy shadow of the crape veil, which showed the paleness of her young face, as if under a penthouse or heavy-shaded cavern. But she was not pale at that moment; a light o

e asked; “or is it too early to intrude upon

bout business she will be sure to see yo

y. She made a step forward, and then came back again with a little compunction, to add, in an undertone: “

t you should have little explanations?” said Mr. Incled

here the cheery glimmer of the fire made the room look{51} much more cheerful than it ever was in the short daylight, through the many branches that surrounded the house. Mrs. Damerel was sitting alone there over the fire; and Rose left him with her mother, and went away, bidding Agatha watch over the children that no one might disturb mamma. “She is talking to Mr. Incledon about business,” said Rose, passing

who directed Agatha and Patty about their lessons, and helped Dick, and sent the little ones off at their proper hour to bed. There was a little glimmer of light in her eyes, a little dawn of color in her cheek. The reason was nothing that could have been put into words—a something perfectly baseless, visionary, and unreasonable. It was not the hope of being reconciled to Edward Wodehouse, for she had never quarrelled with him; nor the hope of seeing him again, for he was gone for years. It was merely that she had recovered her future, her imagination, her land of promise. The visionary barrier which had sh

freedom

my soul

and sometimes sad, but without which we cannot live—the consciousness that she was no shadow in

. Damerel, too, had watched Agatha’s lingering exit with some signs of impatience, as if she, too, had something to say; but Rose had not noticed this, any more than

o take all the trouble, and I have not tried to be of use. I want to tell you that I

easily now, came with a sudden rush to her eyes. She put her arms around the girl, and

shall be different; I am sorry, more sorry than I c

has put this into

had it almost in her heart to tell her mother; but

and like spring. I think it was being

very little, scarcely stirring beyond the garden, since her father’s death, an

say anything to you!” she

ld see him—on business. What was his business?” sa

a very important matter when you began. My dear, I must tell y

as he and she looked at the picture together. She had forgotten all about it months ago, and indeed had never again thought of Mr. Incledon. But now

, as it sometimes seems at the beginning. My dear, I have in my hand a brighter future than you ever cou

a pant of fright; though it seemed to her the moment they were said as if she h

d he would be, oh! of so much help to all your family; and he could give you everything that heart can desire, and restore you to far more than you have lost; and he is

reach into her very heart, “is it not better to give an answer at once

consideration you give such a question? Yo

I am not fond of him at all. I could not pretend to be. When

subject than you would give to a cat or a dog! You decide your whole future without one thought. Rose, is this the help

nly hollowed out by fear and anxiety and trouble, and watched every movem

a dog, you would give more thought to it; and this is a man who loves, who would make you happy. Oh, do not shake your head! How can a child of your age kno

ter a pause. “I do not care for him, I cannot c

on my brother, and you girls forced to work like maid-servants, and our life all changed? Through self-indulgence, Rose. Oh! God forgive me for saying it, but I must tell the truth. Through choosing the pleasure of the moment rather than the duties that we cannot shake off; through deciding always to do

making a line beneath her eyes. The girl was struck dumb by this sudden vehemence. Her reason was confused by the mingled truth and sophistry, which she felt without knowing how to disentangle them, and she was shocked a

say any more!” she cr

do; and these are the blessed ones. But it is not always, it is not often so in this life. Dear, listen to what I say. Here is a way by which you may make up for much of the harm that has been done; you may help all that belong to you; you may put yourself in a position to be useful to many; you may gain what men only gain by the labor of th

whole life. She did not pause to ask herself what there was in the nature of this sacrifice she demanded, which made it less lawful, less noble, than the other sacrifices which are the Christian’s highest ideal of duty. It was enough that by this step, which did not seem to Mrs. Damerel so very hard, Rose would do everything for herself and much for her family, and that she hesitated, declined to take i

ds of battle, and here was the end of it: a poor old house, tumbling to pieces about her ears, a poor little pittance, just enough to give her children bread; and for those children no prospect but{54} toil for which they had not been trained, and which changed their whole conception of life. Bertie, her bright boy, for whom everything had been hoped, if her brother’s precarious bounty should fail, what was there before him but a poor little clerkship in some of

January night, the chill air coming in at the old casements, the dark skies without lending no cheering influence, and no warmth of cheery fires within to neutralize Nature’s heaviness; an accusati