and aspirations, and some of them are pretty high ones. Aim at the best, you know, and keep climbing if you want to get on," he said, looking at the asters with an inward sort of smile, as if he and they had some sweet secret between them.
"You are queerer than ever. But I like your ambition, and hope you will get on. Only mustn't you begin at something soon? I fancied you would study medicine with uncle: that used to be our plan, you know."
"I shall, for the present at least, because I quite agree with you that it is necessary to have an anchor somewhere, and not go floating off into the world of imagination without ballast of the right sort. Uncle and I had some talk about it last night, and I'm going up to begin as soon as possible; for I've mooned long enough," and giving himself a shake, Mac threw down the pretty spray, adding half aloud,—
"Chide me not, laborious band,
For the idle flowers I brought:
Every aster in my hand
Goes home laden with a thought."
Rose caught the words and smiled, thinking to herself, "Oh, that's it: he is getting into the sentimental age, and Aunt Jane has been lecturing him. Dear me, how we are growing up!"
"You look as if you didn't like the prospect very well," she said aloud; for Mac had rammed the volume of Shelley into his pocket, and the glorified expression
