[Rose in Bloom by Louisa May Alcott]@TWC D-Link book
Rose in Bloom

CHAPTER 13 BOTH SIDES
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I don't begrudge you a particle of your happiness, but it does seem as if things weren't quite fair sometimes," said Archie, suppressing an envious sigh, for, though he seldom complained, it was impossible to contrast his own and his cousin's prospects with perfect equanimity.
"His worth shines forth the brightest who in hope Always confides: the Abject soul despairs," observed Mac, quoting Euripides in a conversational tone as he lay upon a divan reposing after a hard day's work.
"Thank you," said Archie, brightening a little, for a hopeful word from any source was very comfortable.
"That's your favorite Rip, isn't it?
He was a wise old boy, but you could find advice as good as that nearer home," put in Steve, who just then felt equal to slapping Plato on the shoulder, so elated was he at being engaged "first of all the lot," as he gracefully expressed it.
"Don't halloo till you are out of the wood, Dandy Mrs.Kit has jilted two men, and may a third, so you'd better not brag of your wisdom too soon, for she may make a fool of you yet," said Charlie, cynically, his views of life being very gloomy about this time.
"No, she won't, Steve, if you do your part honestly.

There's the making of a good little woman in Kitty, and she has proved it by taking you instead of those other fellows.

You are not a Solomon, but you're not spoilt yet, and she had the sense to see it," said Mac encouragingly from his corner, for he and his brother were better friends than even since the little scene at the Van Tassels'.
"Hear! Hear!" cried Steve, looking more than ever like a cheerful young cockerel trying to crow as he stood upon the hearth rug with his hands under his coat tails, rising and falling alternately upon the toes and heels of his neat little boots.
"Come, you've given them each a pat on the head haven't you got one for me?
I need it enough, for if ever there was a poor devil born under an evil star, it is C.C.

Campbell," exclaimed Charlie, leaning his chin on his cue with a discontented expression of countenance, for trying to be good is often very hard work till one gets used to it.
"Oh, yes! I can accommodate you." And, as if his words suggested the selection, Mac, still lying flat upon his back, repeated one of his favorite bits from Beaumont and Fletcher, for he had a wonderful memory and could reel off poetry by the hour together.
"Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man Commands all light, all influence, all fate.
Nothing to him falls early or too late.
Our acts our angels are; or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still." "Confoundedly bad angels they are too," muttered Charlie ruefully, remembering the one that undid him.
His cousins never knew exactly what occurred on New Year's night, but suspected that something was amiss, for Charlie had the blues, and Rose, though as kind as ever, expressed no surprise at his long absences.

They had all observed and wondered at this state of things, yet discreetly made no remark till Steve, who was as inquisitive as a magpie, seized this opportunity to say in a friendly tone, which showed that he bore no malice for the dark prophecy regarding his Kitty's faithfulness: "What's the trouble, Prince?
You are so seldom in a bad humor that we don't know what to make of it and all feel out of spirits when you have the blues.
Had a tiff with Rose ?" "Never you mind, little boy, but this I will say the better women are, the more unreasonable they are.


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