Rose in Bloom: A Sequel to 'Eight Cousins'Alcott, Louisa May
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Rose in Bloom: A Sequel to 'Eight Cousins'
Alcott, Louisa May
Cousins -- Juvenile fiction; Families -- Juvenile fiction; New England -- Juvenile fiction; Young women -- Juvenile fiction
"You will be like uncle in happier ways than that, I hope; for you,
too, must have a high ideal, and find her and be happy," she said,
resolving to be true to the voice of conscience, not be swayed by the
impulse of the moment.
"I _have_ found her, but I don't see any prospect of happiness, do
you?" he asked, wistfully.
"Dear Mac, I cannot give you the love you want, but I do trust and
respect you from the bottom of my heart, if that is any comfort,"
began Rose, looking up with eyes full of contrition, for the pain her
reply must give.
She got no further, however; for those last words wrought a
marvellous change in Mac. Dropping her hands, he stood erect, as if
inspired with sudden energy and hope, while over his face there came a
brave, bright look, which for the moment made him a nobler and a
comelier man than ever handsome Prince had been.
"It _is_ a comfort!" he said, in a tone of gratitude, that touched her
very much. "You said your love must be founded on respect, and that
you have given me: why can I not earn the rest? I'm nothing now; but
every thing is possible when one loves with all his heart and soul and
strength. Rose, _I_ will be your hero if a mortal man can, even though
I have to work and wait for years. I'll _make_ you love me, and be
glad to do it. Don't be frightened. I've not lost my wits: I've just
found them. I don't ask any thing: I'll never speak of my hope, but it
is no use to stop me; I _must_ try it, and I _will_ succeed!"
With the last words, uttered in a ringing voice, while his face
glowed, his eyes shone, and he looked as if carried out of himself by
the passion that possessed him, Mac abruptly left the room, like one
eager to change words to deeds and begin his task at once.
Rose was so amazed by all this, that she sat down trembling a little,
not with fear or anger, but a feeling half pleasure, half pain; and a
sense of some new power--subtle, strong, and sweet--that had come into
her life. It seemed as if another Mac had taken the place of the one
she had known so long,--an ardent, ambitious man, ready for any work,
now that the magical moment had come, when every thing seems possible
to love. If hope could work such a marvellous change for a moment,
could not happiness do it for a lifetime? It would be an exciting
experiment to try, she thought, remembering the sudden illumination
which made that familiar face both beautiful and strange.
She could not help wondering how long this unsuspected sentiment had
been growing in his heart, and felt perplexed by its peculiar
demonstration; for she had never had a lover like this before. It
touched and flattered her, nevertheless: and she could not but feel
honored by a love so genuine and generous; for it seemed to make a man
of Mac all at once, and a manly man too, who was not daunted by
disappointment, but could "hope against hope", and resolve to _make_
her love him if it took years to do it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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