Her little thunderstorm cleared off in a sob or two as she put on her things in the entry-closet, and when she emerged she looked the brighter for the shower. A hasty good-night to Aunt Clara now under the hands of the hairdresser and then she crept down to find Mary the maid. But Mary was out, so was the man, and Rose slipped away by the back-door, flattering herself that she had escaped the awkwardness of having Charlie for escort. There she was mistaken, however, for the gate had hardly closed behind her when a well-known tramp was heard, and the Prince was beside her, saying in a tone of penitent politeness that banished Rose's wrath like magic, “You needn't speak to me if you don't choose, but I must see you safely home, cousin.” She turned at once, put out her hand, and answered heartily, “I was the cross one. Please forgive me, and let's be friends again.” Now that was better than a dozen sermons on the beauty of forgiveness, and did Charlie more good, for it showed him how sweet humility was, and proved that Rose practised as she preached. He shook the hand warmly, then drew it through his arm and said, as if anxious to recover the good opinion with the loss of which he had been threatened, “Look here, Rosy, I've put the ring back, and I'm going to try again. But you don't know how hard it is to stand being laughed at.” “Yes, I do! Ariadne plagues me every time I see her, because I don't wear ear-rings after all the trouble I had getting ready for them.” “Ah, but her twaddle isn't half as bad as the chaffing I get. It takes a deal of pluck to hold out when you are told you are tied to an apron string, and all that sort of thing,” sighed Charlie. “I thought you had a 'deal of pluck,' as you call it. The boys all say you are the bravest of the seven,” said Rose. “So I am about some things, but I cannot bear to be laughed at.” “It is hard, but if one is right won't that make it easier?” “Not to me; it might to a pious parson like Arch.” “Please don't call him names! I guess he has what is called moral courage, and you physical courage. Uncle explained the difference to me, and moral is the best, though often it doesn't look so,” said Rose thoughtfully. Charlie didn't like that, and answered quickly, “I don't believe he'd stand it any better than I do, if he had those fellows at him.” “Perhaps that's why he keeps out of their way, and wants you to.” Rose had him there, and Charlie felt it, but would not give in just yet, though he was going fast, for somehow, in the dark he seemed to see things clearer than in the light, and found it very easy to be confidential when it was “only Rose.” “If he was my brother, now, he'd have some right to interfere,” began Charlie, in an injured tone. “I wish he was!” cried Rose. “So do I,” answered Charlie, and then they both laughed at his inconsistency. The laugh did them good, and when Prince spoke again, it was in a different tone pensive, not proud nor perverse.