for the tongues of those interested
relatives made sad havoc with his little romance and caused him to long
fervently for a desert island where he could woo and win his love in
delicious peace. That nothing of the sort was possible soon became
evident, since every word uttered only confirmed Phebe's resolution to
go away and proved to Rose how mistaken she had been in believing that
she could bring everyone to her way of thinking.

Prejudices are unmanageable things, and the good aunts, like most women,
possessed a plentiful supply, so Rose found it like beating her head
against a wall to try and convince them that Archie was wise in loving
poor Phebe. His mother, who had hoped to have Rose for her daughter not
because of her fortune, but the tender affection she felt for her put
away her disappointment without a word and welcomed Phebe as kindly
as she could for her boy's sake. But the girl felt the truth with the
quickness of a nature made sensitive by love and clung to her resolve
all the more tenaciously, though grateful for the motherly words that
would have been so sweet if genuine happiness had prompted them.

Aunt Jane called it romantic nonsense and advised strong measures "kind,
but firm, Jessie." Aunt Clara was sadly distressed about "what people
would say" if one of "our boys" married a nobody's daughter. And Aunt
Myra not only seconded her views by painting portraits of Phebe's
unknown relations in the darkest colors but uttered direful prophecies
regarding the disreputable beings who would start up in swarms the
moment the girl made a good match.

These suggestions so wrought upon Aunt Plenty that she turned a deaf
ear to the benevolent emotions native to her breast and, taking refuge
behind "our blessed ancestress, Lady Marget," refused to sanction any
engagement which could bring discredit upon the stainless name which was
her pride.

So it all ended where it began, for Archie steadily refused to listen
to anyone but Phebe, and she as steadily reiterated her bitter "No!"
fortifying herself half unconsciously with the hope that, by and by,
when she had won a name, fate might be kinder.

While the rest talked, she had been working, for every hour showed her
that her instinct had been a true one and pride would not let her stay,
though love pleaded eloquently. So, after a Christmas anything but
merry, Phebe packed her trunks, rich in gifts from those who generously
gave her all but the one thing she d