“In my wanderings over the face of the earth, I have picked up some excellent remedies, and, as they are rather agreeable ones, I think you and I will try them. This is a herb-pillow, given to me by a wise old woman when I was ill in India. It is filled with saffron, poppies, and other soothing plants; so lay your little head on it to-night, sleep sweetly without a dream, and wake to-morrow without a pain.” “Shall I really? How nice it smells.” And Rose willingly received the pretty pillow, and stood enjoying its faint, sweet odour, as she listened to the doctor's next remedy. “This is the cup I told you of. Its virtue depends, they say, on the drinker filling it himself; so you must learn to milk. I'll teach you.” “I'm afraid I never can,” said Rose; but she surveyed the cup with favour, for a funny little imp danced on the handle, as if all ready to take a header into the white sea below. “Don't you think she ought to have something more strengthening than milk, Alec? I really shall feel anxious if she does not have a tonic of some sort,” said Aunt Plenty, eyeing the new remedies suspiciously, for she had more faith in her old-fashioned doses than all the magic cups and poppy pillows of the East. “Well, ma'am, I'm willing to give her a pill, if you think best. It is a very simple one, and very large quantities may be taken without harm. You know hasheesh is the extract of hemp? Well, this is a preparation of corn and rye, much used in old times, and I hope it will be again.” “Dear me, how singular!” said Aunt Plenty, bringing her spectacles to bear upon the pills, with a face so full of respectful interest that it was almost too much for Dr. Alec's gravity. “Take one in the morning, and a good-night to you, my dear,” he said, dismissing his patient with a hearty kiss. Then, as she vanished, he put both hands into his hair, exclaiming, with a comical mixture of anxiety and amusement, “When I think what I have undertaken, I declare to you, aunt, I feel like running away and not coming back till Rose is eighteen!” Chapter 5--A Belt and a Box When Rose came out of her chamber, cup in hand, next morning, the first person she saw was Uncle Alec standing on the threshold of the room opposite, which he appeared to be examining with care. When he heard her step, he turned about and began to sing, “Where are you going, my pretty maid?” “I'm going a-milking, sir, she said,” answered Rose, waving the cup; and then they finished the verse together in fine style. Before either spoke, a head, in a nightcap so large and beruffled that it looked like a cabbage, popped out of a room farther down the hall, and an astonished voice exclaimed, “What in the world are you doing about so early?” “Clearing our pipes for the day, ma'am. Look here, auntie, can I have this room?” said Dr. Alec, making her a sailor's bow. “Any room you like, except sister's.”