Presently Mac arrived, saying the instant he entered the room,--
"Thank Heaven!" cried Rose, unclasping her hands. Then seeing how worn out, wet, and weary Mac looked as he came into the light, she added in a tone that was a cordial in itself, "Poor boy, how tired you are! Come here, and let me make you comfortable."
"I was going home to freshen up a bit; for I must be back in an hour. Mother took my place so I could be spared, and came off, as uncle refused to stir."
"Don't go home; for if aunty isn't there it will be very dismal. Step into uncle's room and refresh, then come back and I'll give you your tea. Let me, let me! I can't help in any other way; and I _must_ do something, this waiting is so dreadful."
Her last words betrayed how much suspense was trying her; and Mac yielded at once, glad to comfort and be comforted. When he came back, looking much revived, a tempting little tea-table stood before the fire; and Rose went to meet him, saying with a faint smile, as she liberally bedewed him with the contents of a cologne flask,--
"I can't bear the smell of ether: it suggests such dreadful things."
"What curious creatures women are! Archie told us you bore the news like a hero, and now you turn pale at a whiff of bad air. I can't explain it," mused Mac, as he meekly endured the fragrant shower-bath.
"Neither can I; but I've been imagining horrors all day, and made myself nervous. Don't let us talk about it; but come and have some tea."
"That's another queer thing. Tea is your panacea for all human ills; yet there isn't any nourishment in it. I'd rather have a glass of milk, thank you," said Mac, taking an easy-chair and stretching his feet to the fire.
She brought it to him and made him eat something; then, as he shut his eyes wearily, she went away to the piano, and having no heart to sing, played softly till he seemed asleep. But, at the stroke of six, he was up and ready to be off again.
"He gave me that: take it with you and put some on his hair; he likes it, and I do so want to help a little," she said, slipping the pretty flagon into his pocket, with such a wistful look, Mac never thought of smiling at this very feminine request.
"I'll tell him. Is there any thing else I can do for you, cousin?" he asked, holding the cold hand that had been serving him so helpfully.