Something uncommonly fine, they declared it was, but enveloped in the deepest mystery for the present.
"Did I ever see it ?" asked Jamie.
"Not to remember it; but Mac and Steve have, and liked it immensely," answered Archie, thereby causing the two mentioned to neglect Debby's delectable fritters for several minutes, while they cudgelled their brains.
"Who will have it first ?" asked Will, with his mouth full of marmalade.
"Aunt Plenty, I guess." "When will she have it ?" demanded Geordie, bouncing in his seat with impatience.
"Sometime on Monday." "Heart alive! what is the boy talking about ?" cried the old lady from behind the tall urn, which left little to be seen but the topmost bow of her cap.
"Doesn't auntie know ?" asked a chorus of voices.
"No; and that's the best of the joke, for she is desperately fond of it." "What colour is it ?" asked Rose, joining in the fun.
"Blue and brown." "Is it good to eat ?" asked Jamie.
"Some people think so, but I shouldn't like to try it," answered Charlie, laughing so he split his tea.
"Who does it belong to ?" put in Steve.
Archie and the Prince stared at one another rather blankly for a minute, then Archie answered with a twinkle of the eye that made Charlie explode again, "To Grandfather Campbell." This was a poser, and they gave up the puzzle, though Jamie confided to Rose that he did not think he could live till Monday without knowing what this remarkable thing was.
Soon after tea the Clan departed, singing "All the blue bonnets are over the border," at the tops of their voices.
"Well, dear, how do you like your cousins ?" asked Aunt Plenty, as the last pony frisked round the corner and the din died away.
"Pretty well, ma'am; but I like Phebe better." An answer which caused Aunt Plenty to hold up her hands in despair and trot away to tell sister Peace that she never should understand that child, and it was a mercy Alec was coming soon to take the responsibility off their hands.
Fatigued by the unusual exertions of the afternoon, Rose curled herself up in the sofa corner to rest and think about the great mystery, little guessing that she was to know it first of all.
Right in the middle of her meditations she fell asleep and dreamed she was at home again in her own little bed.

She seemed to wake and see her father bending over her; to hear him say, "My little Rose"; to answer, "Yes, papa"; and then to feel him take her in his arms and kiss her tenderly.

So sweet, so real was the dream, that she started up with a cry of joy to find herself in the arms of a brown, bearded man, who held her close, and whispered in a voice so like her father's that she clung to him involuntarily, "This is my little girl, and I am Uncle Alec.".