“May be able! I will be able! Does that old noodle think I'm going to stay stived up here much longer?” “I guess he does, unless your eyes get on faster than they have yet.” “Has he said anything more lately?” “I haven't seen him, you know. Shall I begin? this looks rather nice.” “Read away; it's all one to me.” And Mac cast himself down upon the old lounge, where his heavy head felt easiest. Rose began with great spirit, and kept on gallantly for a couple of chapters, getting over the unpronounceable names with unexpected success, she thought, for her listener did not correct her once, and lay so still she fancied he was deeply interested. All of a sudden she was arrested in the middle of a fine paragraph by Mac, who sat bolt upright, brought both feet down with a thump, and said, in a rough, excited tone, “Stop! I don't hear a word, and you may as well save your breath to answer my question.” “What is it?” asked Rose, looking uneasy, for she had something on her mind, and feared that he suspected what it was. His next words proved that she was right. “Now, look here, I want to know something, and you've got to tell me.” “Please, don't--” began Rose, beseechingly. “You must, or I'll pull off this shade and stare at the sun as hard as ever I can stare. Come now!” and he half rose, as if ready to execute the threat. “I will! oh, I will tell, if I know! But don't be reckless and do anything so crazy as that,” cried Rose, in great distress. “Very well; then listen, and don't dodge, as everyone else does. Didn't the doctor think my eyes worse the last time he came? Mother won't say, but you shall.” “I believe he did,” faltered Rose. “I thought so! Did he say I should be able to go to school when it begins?” “No, Mac,” very low. “Ah!” That was all, but Rose saw her cousin set his lips together and take a long breath, as if she had hit him hard. He bore the disappointment bravely, however, and asked quite steadily in a minute, “How soon does he think I can study again?” It was so hard to answer that! Yet Rose knew she must, for Aunt Jane had declared she could not do it, and Uncle Mac had begged her to break the truth to the poor lad. “Not for a good many months.” “How many?” he asked with a pathetic sort of gruffness. “A year, perhaps.” “A whole year! Why, I expected to be ready for college by that time.” And, pushing up the shade, Mac stared at her with startled eyes, that soon blinked and fell before the one ray of light. “Plenty of time for that; you must be patient now, and get them thoroughly well, or they will trouble you again when it will be harder to spare them,” she said, with tears in her own eyes. “I won't do it! I will study and get through somehow. It's all humbug about taking care so long. These doctors like to keep hold of a fellow if they can. But I won't stand it I vow I won't!” and he banged his fist down on the unoffending pillow as if he were pommelling the hard-hearted doctor.