“Oh, indeed!” with a shrug. “Then I'll come aboard and salute,” he added; and, to Rose's great amazement, Uncle Alec went up one of the pillars of the back piazza hand over hand, stepped across the roof, and swung himself into her balcony, saying, as he landed on the wide balustrade: “Have you any doubts about me now, ma'am?” Rose was so taken aback, she could only answer with a smile as she went to meet him. “How does my girl do this morning?” he asked, taking the little cold hand she gave him in both his big warm ones. “Pretty well, thank you, sir.” “Ah, but it should be very well. Why isn't it?” “I always wake up with a headache, and feel tired.” “Don't you sleep well?” “I lie awake a long time, and then I dream, and my sleep does not seem to rest me much.” “What do you do all day?” “Oh, I read, and sew a little, and take naps, and sit with auntie.” “No running about out of doors, or house-work, or riding, hey?” “Aunt Plenty says I'm not strong enough for much exercise. I drive out with her sometimes, but I don't care for it.” “I'm not surprised at that,” said Uncle Alec, half to himself, adding, in his quick way: “Who have you had to play with?” “No one but Ariadne Blish, and she was such a goose I couldn't bear her. The boys came yesterday, and seemed rather nice; but, of course, I couldn't play with them.” “Why not?” “I'm too old to play with boys.” “Not a bit of it; that's just what you need, for you've been molly-coddled too much. They are good lads, and you'll be mixed up with them more or less for years to come, so you may as well be friends and playmates at once. I will look you up some girls also, if I can find a sensible one who is not spoilt by her nonsensical education.” “Phebe is sensible, I'm sure, and I like her, though I only saw her yesterday,” cried Rose, waking up suddenly. “And who is Phebe, if you please?” Rose eagerly told all she knew, and Uncle Alec listened, with an odd smile lurking about his mouth, though his eyes were quite sober as he watched the face before him. “I'm glad to see that you are not aristocratic in your tastes, but I don't quite make out why you like this young lady from the poor-house.” “You may laugh at me, but I do. I can't tell why, only she seems so happy and busy, and sings so beautifully, and is strong enough to scrub and sweep, and hasn't any troubles to plague her,” said Rose, making a funny jumble of reasons in her efforts to explain. “How do you know that?” “Oh, I was telling her about mine, and asked if she had any, and she said, 'No, only I'd like to go to school, and I mean to some day.” “So she doesn't call desertion, poverty, and hard work, troubles? She's a brave little girl, and I shall be proud to know her.” And Uncle Alec gave an approving nod, that made Rose wish she had been the one to earn it. “But what are these troubles of yours, child?” he asked, after a minute of silence. “Please don't ask me, uncle.”