uiet, and let Rose go and take her iron
and be made tidy, and then we will see what we can find for supper,"
said the old lady as she trotted away, followed by a volley of
directions for the approaching feast.

"Marmalade for me, auntie."

"Plenty of plum-cake, please."

"Tell Debby to trot out the baked pears."

"I'm your man for lemon-pie, ma'am."

"Do have fritters; Rose will like 'em."

"She'd rather have tarts, I know."

When Rose came down, fifteen minutes later, with every curl smoothed and
her most beruffled apron on, she found the boys loafing about the long
hall, and paused on the half-way landing to take an observation, for
till now she had not really examined her new-found cousins.

There was a strong family resemblance among them, though some of the
yellow heads were darker than others, some of the cheeks brown instead
of rosy, and the ages varied all the way from sixteen-year-old Archie
to Jamie, who was ten years younger. None of them were especially
comely but the Prince, yet all were hearty, happy-looking lads, and Rose
decided that boys were not as dreadful as she had expected to find them.

They were all so characteristically employed that she could not help
smiling as she looked. Archie and Charlie, evidently great cronies, were
pacing up and down, shoulder to shoulder, whistling "Bonnie Dundee"; Mac
was reading in a corner, with his book close to his near-sighted eyes;
Dandy was arranging his hair before the oval glass in the hat-stand;
Geordie and Will investigating the internal economy of the moon-faced
clock; and Jamie lay kicking up his heels on the mat at the foot of the
stairs, bent on demanding his sweeties the instant Rose appeared.

She guessed his intention, and forestalled his demand by dropping a
handful of sugar-plums down upon him.

At his cry of rapture the other lads looked up and smiled involuntarily,
for the little kinswoman standing there above was a winsome sight with
her shy, soft eyes, bright hair, and laughing face. The black frock
reminded them of her loss, and filled the boyish hearts with a kindly
desire to be good to "our cousin," who had no longer any home but this.

"There she is, as fine as you please," cried Steve, kissing his hand to
her.

"Come on, Missy; tea is ready," added the Prince encouragingly.

"I shall take her in." And Archie offered his arm with great dignity, an
honour that made Rose turn as red as a cherry and long to run upstairs
again.