“Now, my dear souls, don't let us quarrel and make Rose a bone of contention though, upon my word, she is almost a bone, poor little lass! You have had her among you for a year, and done what you liked. I cannot say that your success is great, but that is owing to too many fingers in the pie. Now, I intend to try my way for a year, and if at the end of it she is not in better trim than now, I'll give up the case, and hand her over to someone else. That's fair, I think.” “She will not be here a year hence, poor darling, so no one need dread future responsibility,” said Aunt Myra, folding her black gloves as if all ready for the funeral. “By Jupiter! Myra, you are enough to damp the ardour of a saint!” cried Dr. Alec, with a sudden spark in his eyes. “Your croaking will worry that child out of her wits, for she is an imaginative puss, and will fret and fancy untold horrors. You have put it into her head that she has no constitution, and she rather likes the idea. If she had not had a pretty good one, she would have been 'marked for the tomb' by this time, at the rate you have been going on with her. I will not have any interference please understand that; so just wash your hands of her, and let me manage till I want help, then I'll ask for it.” “Hear, hear!” came from the corner where Uncle Mac was apparently wrapt in slumber. “You were appointed guardian, so we can do nothing. But I predict that the girl will be spoilt, utterly spoilt,” answered Mrs. Jane, grimly. “Thank you, sister. I have an idea that if a woman can bring up two boys as perfectly as you do yours, a man, if he devotes his whole mind to it, may at least attempt as much with one girl,” replied Dr. Alec, with a humorous look that tickled the others immensely, for it was a well-known fact in the family that Jane's boys were more indulged than all the other lads put together. “I am quite easy, for I really do think that Alec will improve the child's health; and by the time his year is out, it will be quite soon enough for her to go to Madame Roccabella's and be finished off,” said Aunt Clara, settling her rings, and thinking, with languid satisfaction, of the time when she could bring out a pretty and accomplished niece. “I suppose you will stay here in the old place, unless you think of marrying, and it's high time you did,” put in Mrs. Jane, much nettled at her brother's last hit. “No, thank you. Come and have a cigar, Mac,” said Dr. Alec, abruptly. “Don't marry; women enough in the family already,” muttered Uncle Mac; and then the gentlemen hastily fled. “Aunt Peace would like to see you all, she says,” was the message Rose brought before the ladies could begin again. “Hectic, hectic! dear me, dear me!” murmured Aunt Myra, as the shadow of her gloomy bonnet fell upon Rose, and the stiff tips of a black glove touched the cheek where the colour deepened under so many eyes.