th the Rosemores, in a
delightful box. We were going to see the Belle's Stratagem, with the
masquerade, and the song, and the minuet, and the new French dancers. I
would not have missed such an entertainment for a hundred dollars. How
very provoking that the bad news did not arrive one day later. If it had
not come till to-morrow I should not have cared, for then our charming
evening at the theatre would have been over. And now, to think that
instead of going to the play, I must stay at home and look at my father
grieving for old aunt Medford. There now, Juliet, your face is again in
the style of Ned's. Positively, if you are so particular, I shall cut
your acquaintance. Those that I consider my friends must enter into all
my "whims and oddities," and not expect me to act according to rule. I
hate hypocrisy. Why should I pretend to grieve for aunt Medford when I
have never seen her since I was six years old?

_Juliet._ But sympathy for your father--

_Madeline._ Why, where is the use of sympathy? When people are in grief,
sympathy only makes them worse.

_Juliet._ If you yourself were in affliction, Madeline, you would find
the sympathy of your family and friends very gratifying.

_Madeline._ Wait till _I am_ in affliction and then I will tell you.
"_Toujours gai_," is my motto, and "_vive la bagatelle_" for ever.

So saying, she danced out of the room, and went home; but in a short
time she returned, looking very mysterious, and peeping in at the door
to ascertain if Juliet was alone. "Juliet, love," said Madeline in a low
voice, "come with me into the back parlour, lest we should be
interrupted. I have something of great consequence to tell you."

As Madeline often dealt in mysteries, Juliet thought this new secret
nothing more than usual, and accompanied her into the back parlour,
where Madeline cautiously bolted the folding-doors and locked the side
door. "Now, Juliet," said she in an under voice, "I know I may depend on
your secrecy." "Certainly you may," replied Juliet.

_Madeline._ Well then, I must confide to you a plan that has just struck
me. I cannot bear the idea of giving up the play to-night, and you know
it is out of the question for any of the family to be _seen_ there.

_Juliet._ Of course none of you can go to the theatre when your house is
shut up for the death of a near relation, and when Mr. Malcolm is in
such deep affliction.

_Madeline._ It is certainly a great pity that aunt Medford died