broken; so
that they were no longer fit to ornament the vases, and some of them
were entirely lost.

Madeline did not come in to see Juliet till she knew that she had quite
recovered from her sore-throat; having, as she afterward told her, a
perfect antipathy to a sick-room, and a mortal dislike to the dismals.
She forgot to return the necklace till Juliet, with many blushes, and
much confusion, at last reminded her of it. "Why," said she, "you seem
very uneasy about that necklace. Between friends like us, every thing
ought to be common." Madeline, however, had never offered to lend Juliet
the smallest article belonging to herself.

The next time Madeline came, she brought the necklace in her hand.
"Here," said she "is this most important affair; I took a fancy to wear
it round my _head_ at Mrs. Linton's, and I can assure you I had a great
deal of pulling and stretching to get it to clasp. Why did grandpapa
give you such a short necklace? However, soon after I began to dance,
snap went the thread, and down came all the pearls showering about the
floor. How I laughed; but I set all the beaux in the cotillon to picking
them up, and I suppose they found the most of them. You see I have
brought you a handful. And now you can amuse yourself with stringing
them again. Come now, don't look so like Ned.--How can you expect a wild
creature as I am, to be careful of flowers, and beads, and all such
trumpery? I dare say, you are now thinking that your sober Cecilia
Selden would have returned the pearls 'in good order and well
conditioned.' But I never allow any one to get angry with me: you know I
am a privileged person. So now look agreeable, and smile immediately.
Smile, smile, I tell you." Juliet _did_ smile, and Madeline throwing her
arms round her neck, kissed her, exclaiming, as she patted her cheek,
"There's my own good baby. She always, at last, does as I bid her."

The next day Juliet heard that the windows of Mr. Malcolm's house were
all shut up; but she was not long in suspense as to the cause, for
shortly after, Madeline came running in the back way, and said with a
most afflicted countenance, "O, Juliet, you may pity me now if you never
did before. We have just heard from New Orleans of the death of aunt
Medford, my father's only sister."

_Juliet._ I am very sorry you have received such bad news.

_Madeline._ Oh! but the worst of it is, that it will prevent our going
to the play to-night. We had engaged seats wi