Now, that was an artful speech of Charlie's; for Miss Waring was a fast and fashionable damsel, who openly admired Prince Charming, and had given him the name. Rose disliked her, and was sure her influence was bad; for youth made frivolity forgivable, wit hid want of refinement, and beauty always covers a multitude of sins in a man's eyes. At the sound of Effie's name, Rose wavered, and would have yielded but for the memory of the "first mate's" last words. She did desire to "keep a straight course;" so, though the current of impulse set strongly in a southerly direction, principle, the only compass worth having, pointed due north, and she tried to obey it like a wise young navigator, saying steadily, while she directed to Annabel the parcel containing a capacious pair of slippers intended for Uncle Mac,-- "Don't trouble yourself about me. I can go with uncle, and slip away without disturbing anybody." "I don't believe you'll have the heart to do it," said Charlie, incredulously, as he sealed the last note. "Wait and see." "I will, but shall hope to the last," and, kissing his hand to her, he departed to post her letters, quite sure that Miss Waring would not lead the German. It certainly looked for a moment as if Miss Campbell _would_, because she ran to the door with the words "I'll go" upon her lips. But she did not open it till she had stood a minute staring hard at the old glove on Psyche's head; then, like one who had suddenly got a bright idea, she gave a decided nod and walked slowly out of the room. CHAPTER VI. _POLISHING MAC._ "Please could I say one word?" was the question three times repeated before a rough head bobbed out from the grotto of books in which Mac usually sat when he studied. "Did any one speak?" he asked, blinking in the flood of sunshine that entered with Rose. "Only three times, thank you. Don't disturb yourself, I beg; for I merely want to say a word," answered Rose, as she prevented him from offering the easy-chair in which he sat. "I was rather deep in a compound fracture, and didn't hear. What can I do for you, cousin?" and Mac shoved a stack of pamphlets off the chair near him, with a hospitable wave of the hand that sent his papers flying in all directions. Rose sat down, but did not seem to find her "word" an easy one to utter; for she twisted her handkerchief about her fingers in embarrassed silence, till Mac put on his glasses, and, after a keen look, asked soberly,-- "Is it a splinter, a cut, or a whitlow, ma'am?" "It is neither; do forget your tiresome surgery for a minute, and be the kindest cousin that ever was," answered Rose, beginning rather sharply and ending with her most engaging smile. "Can't promise in the dark," said the wary youth. "It is a favor, a great favor, and one I don't choose to ask any of the other boys," answered the artful damsel. Mac looked pleased, and leaned forward, saying more affably,-- "Name it, and be sure I'll grant it if I can."