Eight Cousins; Or, The Aunt-HillAlcott, Louisa May
General
Eight Cousins; Or, The Aunt-Hill
Alcott, Louisa May
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Orphans -- Juvenile fiction
"I couldn't help it, 'shirred biases' were so very funny!" Rose said, as
she turned to her box after the splendid laugh. "But really, auntie,"
she added soberly, "I feel as if I ought not to have so many nice
things. I suppose it wouldn't do to give Phebe some of them? Uncle might
not like it."
"He would not mind; but they are not suitable for Phebe. Some of the
dresses you are done with would be more useful, if they can be made over
to fit her," answered Aunt Peace in the prudent, moderate tone which is
so trying to our feelings when we indulge in little fits of charitable
enthusiasm.
"I'd rather give her new ones, for I think she is a little bit proud and
might not like old things. If she was my sister it would do, because
sisters don't mind, but she isn't, and that makes it bad, you see. I
know how I can manage beautifully; I'll adopt her!" and Rose looked
quite radiant with this new idea.
"I'm afraid you could not do it legally till you are older, but you
might see if she likes the plan, and at any rate you can be very kind to
her, for in one sense we are all sisters, and should help one another."
The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that Rose was fired with a
desire to settle the matter at once, and rushed away to the kitchen just
as she was. Phebe was there, polishing up the antique andirons so busily
that she started when a voice cried out: "Smell that, taste this, and
look at me!"
Phebe sniffed attar of rose, crunched the "Lump of Delight" tucked into
her mouth, and stared with all her eyes at little Morgiana prancing
about the room like a brilliant paroquet.
"My stars, ain't you splendid!" was all she could say, holding up two
dusty hands.
[Illustration: ROSE AND PHEBE.]
"I've got heaps of lovely things upstairs, and I'll show them all to
you, and I'd go halves, only auntie thinks they wouldn't be useful, so I
shall give you something else; and you won't mind, will you, because I
want to adopt you as Arabella was in the story. Won't that be nice?"
"Why, Miss Rose, have you lost your wits?"
No wonder Phebe asked, for Rose talked very fast, and looked so odd in
her new costume, and was so eager she could not stop to explain. Seeing
Phebe's bewilderment, she quieted down and said, with a pretty air of
earnestness,--
"It isn't fair that I should have so much and you so little, and I want
to be as good to you as if you were my sister, for Aunt Peace says we
are all sisters really. I thought if I adopted you as much as I can now,
it would be nicer. Will you let me, please?"
To Rose's great surprise, Phebe sat down on the floor and hid her face
in her apron for a minute without answering a word.
"Oh dear, now she's offended, and I don't know what to do," thought
Rose, much discouraged by this reception of her offer.
"Please, forgive me; I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, and hope you
won't think--" she faltered presently, feeling that she must undo the
mischief if possible.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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