t very impatient and suddenly announced that he was going to
L to see after those young people, for Phebe was rapidly singing herself
into public favor with the sweet old ballads which she rendered so
beautifully that hearers were touched as well as ears delighted, and her
prospects brightened every month.

"Will you come with me, Rose, and surprise this ambitious pair who are
getting famous so fast they'll forget their homekeeping friends if we
don't remind them of us now and then?" he said when he proposed the trip
one wild March morning.

"No, thank you, sir I'll stay with Aunty; that is all I'm fit for and
I should only be in the way among those fine people," answered Rose,
snipping away at the plants blooming in the study window.

There was a slight bitterness in her voice and a cloud on her face,
which her uncle heard and saw at once, half guessed the meaning of, and
could not rest till he had found out.

"Do you think Phebe and Mac would not care to see you?" he asked,
putting down a letter in which Mac gave a glowing account of a concert
at which Phebe surpassed herself.

"No, but they must be very busy," began Rose, wishing she had held her
tongue.

"Then what is the matter?" persisted Dr. Alec.

Rose did not speak for a moment, and decapitated two fine geraniums with
a reckless slash of her scissors, as if pent-up vexation of some kind
must find a vent. It did in words also, for, as if quite against her
will, she exclaimed impetuously: "The truth is, I'm jealous of them
both!"

"Bless my soul! What now?" ejaculated the doctor in great surprise.

Rose put down her water pot and shears, came and stood before him with
her hands nervously twisted together, and said, just as 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