ROSE SEES THE WORLD

Was this the world, after all? Rose asked herself; and, if so, what was
amiss with it, and where was the charm, the bewilderment, the
intoxication, the glamour?

She had been glad to come to Boston, for the last two weeks in Edgewood
had proved intolerable. She had always been a favorite heretofore, from
the days when the boys fought for the privilege of dragging her sled up
the hills, and filling her tiny mitten with peppermints, down to the
year when she came home from the Wareham Female Seminary, an
acknowledged belle and beauty. Suddenly she had felt her popularity
dwindling. There was no real change in the demeanor of her
acquaintances, but there was a certain subtle difference of atmosphere.
Everybody sympathized tacitly with Stephen, and she did not wonder, for
there were times when she secretly took his part against herself. Only a
few candid friends had referred to the rupture openly in conversation,
but these had been blunt in their disapproval.

It seemed part of her ill fortune that just at this time Rufus should be
threatened with partial blindness, and that Stephen's heart, already
sore, should be torn with new anxieties. She could hardly bear to see
the doctor's carriage drive by day after day, and hear night after night
that Rufus was unresigned, melancholy, half mad; while Stephen, as the
doctor said, was brother, mother, and father in one, as gentle as a
woman, as firm as Gibraltar.

These foes to her peace of mind all came from within; but without was
the hourly reproach of her grandmother, whose scorching tongue touched
every sensitive spot in the girl's nature and burned it like fire.

Finally a way of escape opened. Mrs. Wealthy Brooks, who had always been
rheumatic, grew suddenly worse. She had heard of a "magnetic" physician
in Boston, also of one who used electricity with wonderful effect, and
she announced her intention of taking both treatments impartially and
alternately. The neighbors were quite willing that Wealthy Ann Brooks
should spend the deceased Ezra's money in any way she pleased,--she had
earned it, goodness knows, by living with him for twenty-five
years,--but before the day for her departure arrived her right arm and
knee became so much more painful that it was impossible for her to
travel alone.

At this juncture Rose was called upon to act as nurse and companion in a
friendly way. She seized the opportunity hungrily as a way out of her
present