“What am I to do with the stuff?” questioned Rose with a tragic gesture toward the unfolded garments scattered round her. “I’ve a good mind to pack it in the box again and send it straight back to Great-Aunt Sarah!”
“No, no, Rose,” reproved Mrs. Blossom; “remember she is your aunt.”
“I do remember.” Rose’s eyes were sparkling with angry tears. “I used sometimes to imagine what it would be like if I should ever find my relatives and have real aunts and uncles and cousins, who cared for me. Well, I have found them,” and she drew a sobbing breath. “I have a Great-Uncle Samuel and a Great-Aunt Sarah; and neither one cares that for me,” and she gave a snap to her fingers, “and neither one will have me—though I’m glad Great-Aunt Sarah doesn’t want me. But I shall love Great-Uncle Samuel always, even if I never see him again, because he did take enough interest to come and see me, and plan things for me. When I was Posey, I was nobody’s Posey; and now I’m Rose, I’m nobody’s Rose!”
“You are our Rose,” and Mrs. Patience put her arms about her, “and the Fifields think you are their Rose. I will tell you what you can do. You can win the love of people for yourself, and so be everybody’s Rose.”
Rose suddenly smiled. “I never thought of that before, but I will do it. And Grandmother Sweet shall tell me how, for everybody loves her.”
But Grandmother shook her head. “That is something thee will have to learn for thyself. Only I will tell thee one thing, if thee would win love thee must first give love; whatever thee would get out of life thee must first put into life.”
Miss Silence had been going over the things again with her practised eye. “See here, Rose, we can wash up this black and white check and it will make you a good school dress, with a color for piping to brighten it. And I have been looking at the black velvet and I’m quite sure I can get you a little coat out of it. We can use the brocade for lining, and there will be plenty of feather trimming, even when the bad spots are taken out. That will look nicely with your new red dress.”
“And I will make you a little black velvet turban, and trim it with red ribbon to match your dress,” added Mrs. Patience.
“And I will show you how to put new feet in the stockings.” Grandmother Sweet had drawn one on her hand. “They are a good, fine quality.”
Rose looked from one to another. “What should I have done if I hadn’t come here? You know just what to do every time. And when the world looks all grey, if it isn’t quite black, if I can see it through your eyes, why it’s pink and rosy again.”