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imposing of all, a plump blue silk cushion, coquettishly trimmed
with lace, and pink rose-buds at the corners.
That cushion rather astonished Rose; in fact, the whole table did,
and she was just thinking, with a sly smile
"Uncle is a dandy, but I never should have guessed it," when he
opened the door of a large closet, saying, with a careless wave of
"Men like plenty of room for their rattle-traps; don't you think that
ought to satisfy me?"
Rose peeped in and gave a start, though all she saw was what one
usually finds in closets clothes and boots, boxes and bags. Ah! but
you see these clothes were small black and white frocks; the row
of little boots that stood below had never been on Dr. Alec's feet;
the green bandbox had a gray veil straying out of it, and yes! the
bag hanging on the door was certainly her own piece-bag, with a
hole in one corner. She gave a quick look round the room and
understood now why it had seemed too dainty for a man, why her
Testament and Prayer Book were on the table by the bed, and what
those rose-buds meant on the blue cushion. It came upon her in
one delicious burst that this little paradise was all for her, and, not
knowing how else to express her gratitude, she caught Dr. Alec
round the neck, saying impetuously
"O uncle, you are too good to me! I'll do anything you ask me; ride
wild horses and take freezing baths and eat bad-tasting messes, and
let my clothes hang on me, to show how much I thank you for this
dear, sweet, lovely room!"
"You like it, then? But why do you think it is yours, my lass?"
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