He knit his brows, then smiled, because it was impossible to help it Rose looked so conscience-stricken in spite of her twenty years.
"How do you find it?
Interesting ?" "Oh, very! I felt as if I was in another world and forgot all about this." "Not a very good world, I fancy, if you were afraid or ashamed to be found in it.

Where did this come from ?" asked Dr.Alec, surveying the book with great disfavor.

Rose told him, and added slowly, "I particularly wanted to read it, and fancied I might, because you did when it was so much talked about the winter we were in Rome." "I did read it to see if it was fit for you." "And decided that it was not, I suppose, since you never gave it to me!" "Yes." "Then I won't finish it.

But, Uncle, I don't see why I should not," added Rose wistfully, for she had reached the heart of the romance and found it wonderfully fascinating.
"You may not see, but don't you feel why not ?" asked Dr.Alec gravely.
Rose leaned her flushed cheek on her hand and thought a minute, then looked up and answered honestly, "Yes, I do, but can't explain it, except that I know something must be wrong, because I blushed and started when you came in." "Exactly." And the doctor gave an emphatic nod, as if the symptoms pleased him.
"But I really don't see any harm in the book so far.

It is by a famous author, wonderfully well written, as you know, and the characters so lifelike that I feel as if I should really meet them somewhere." "I hope not!" ejaculated the doctor, shutting the book quickly, as if to keep the objectionable beings from escaping.
Rose laughed, but persisted in her defense, for she did want to finish the absorbing story, yet would not without leave.
"I have read French novels before, and you gave them to me.