“Well, dear, and how are things going with you now? Better, I hope, than they were a week ago.”
“Aunt Jessie, I think I'm going to be very happy, now uncle has come. He does the queerest things, but he is so good to me I can't help loving him”; and, nestling closer to little Mum, Rose told all that had happened, ending with a rapturous account of the splendid box.
“I am very glad, dear. But, Rose, I must warn you of one thing; don't let uncle spoil you.”
“But I like to be spoilt, auntie.”
“I don't doubt it; but if you turn out badly when the year is over he will be blamed, and his experiment prove a failure. That would be a pity, wouldn't it? when he wants to do so much for you, and can do it if his kind heart does not get in the way of his good judgment.”
“I never thought of that, and I'll try not to be spoilt. But how can I help it?” asked Rose anxiously.
“By not complaining of the wholesome things he wants you to do; by giving him cheerful obedience as well as love; and even making some small sacrifices for his sake.”
“I will, I truly will! and when I get in a worry about things may I come to you? Uncle told me to, and I feel as if I shouldn't be afraid.”
“You may, darling; this is the place where little troubles are best cured, and this is what mothers are for, I fancy”; and Aunt Jessie drew the curly head to her shoulder with a tender look that proved how well she knew what medicine the child most needed.
It was so sweet and comfortable that Rose sat still enjoying it till a little voice said,