Chapter IV: Part 4

Madeline soon recovered herself, and attempted an explanation of the strange predicament in which he had found them; passing it off as a very good joke, and a further proof of her ungovernable volatility.

Edward remained silent. He would not reproach her, but he determined in his mind what course to pursue. He took leave of Madeline at her own door, and on entering his father's house, he told Juliet that she had better, as soon as possible, divest herself of her disguise. Juliet could not speak, but she wept on her brother's shoulder; and Edward kissed her cheek, and bade her good night.

She retired to bed, but she could not sleep; and in the morning she rose earlier than usual, and went into the parlour, where she knew she would find Edward. She looked very pale, and her eyes were swimming in tears. "Oh! Edward," said she, "what did my father and mother say, when they came home last night, and you told them all that happened?"

"I told them nothing," replied Edward, "I love you too well to betray you. I have kept your secret, and I shall never disclose it. But I must have a recompense."

_Juliet._ Any, any recompense, dearest Edward. What can you ask that I could possibly refuse.

_Edward._ I require you, from this day, to give up all acquaintance with Madeline Malcolm. Your infatuation for a girl who, under the name of wildness and volatility, sets all propriety at defiance, is to me astonishing. Henceforward let there be no more intimacy between you. It must be checked before it leads to consequences still worse than the adventures of last night.

_Juliet._ I acknowledge that Madeline is too regardless of decorum, and that she says and does many strange and improper things: but then she has so good a heart.

_Edward._ Tell me one proof of it. You have fallen into the common error of supposing that all persons who profess to be giddy, wild, and reckless, have kind feelings and good hearts. On the contrary, they may too often be classed with the most selfish, cold, and heartless people in the world; for they have seldom either sense or sensibility, and while resolutely bent on the gratification of their own whims, are generally regardless of the peace and convenience of those about them. When I first went to college I thought as you do. I supposed that the most careless, noisy, and desperate boys must necessarily have kind and generous feelings. But I found the contrary to my cost; and I am now convinced, that, with some few exceptions, the best hearts are generally united with the best heads and the best manners.

_Juliet._ But even if I never visit Madeline myself, how shall I prevent her running in to me as she does, two or three times a day?

_Edward._ Very easily. Write her a concise note, intimating that you do not consider it proper to continue your acquaintance with her.

_Juliet._ Oh! Edward, I never can do that.

_Edward._ Is not this the recompense I am entitled to, for keeping your secret?

_Juliet._ Indeed, Edward, you are too cruel.

_Edward._ Severe, perhaps, but not cruel. The exigency of the case requires decisive measures. "I am cruel only to be kind," and you will thank me for it hereafter.

_Juliet._ Well then, I _will_ write the note. And if it _must be done_ I will do it immediately; for if I allow myself to think about it long, it will grieve me so much that I shall never have resolution to go through with it. (_She goes to the desk and writes._) There now, Edward, read this note.

_Edward_, (_reading_.) "Though convinced that it is better our intimacy should cease, it is not without regret that I decline all further intercourse with Madeline Malcolm. For her health and happiness I offer my best wishes; but in future we can only meet as strangers.

"JULIET LANSDOWNE."

Now seal and send it.

_Juliet._ Oh, Edward! it is hard to give up Madeline. But I believe you are right, and I ought not to regret it.

_Edward._ I _know_ I am right.

Juliet then rang the bell for a servant, to whom with a quivering lip and hesitating hand she gave the note, desiring him to leave it next door for Miss Malcolm.

After breakfast, when Juliet was again alone with her brother, she said to him, "Edward, I have never yet concealed any thing from my parents. I think if I were to disclose to them the whole truth, I should feel less miserable."

Edward approved of this determination, and they went together to their mother, to whom Juliet candidly related the whole history of their going to the theatre in disguise. She kindly endeavoured to throw as little blame on Madeline as possible; and Edward tried to apologize for Juliet's partiality for this dangerous girl, and for the yielding gentleness of disposition with which his sister had allowed herself to be influenced by her; and for her want of judgment in not perceiving the faults of Madeline in as strong a light as they appeared to every one else.

Mrs. Lansdowne's pleasure, on finding that her daughter had consented to give up this very improper intimacy, counterbalanced her regret at Juliet's having been persuaded by Madeline to join in the folly and indecorum of the preceding evening. For this, however, she thought the girls had been sufficiently punished by all they had suffered at the theatre, and during their ignominious flight from it.

Madeline's parents had no suspicion of her having been at the play in disguise, and the idea of confessing it to them never for a moment entered her head. She was highly indignant at Juliet's note; and fortunately her resentment was too great to allow her to make any attempt at renewing their intimacy. She took care, however, to let no one suppose that the acquaintance had ceased by Juliet's desire; telling every body that Juliet Lansdowne was a little fool, and that she had grown quite tired of her.

In the spring, Mr. Malcolm removed with his family to New York, and their house next door to Mr. Lansdowne's was immediately taken by the father of Cecilia Selden who had again become the intimate friend of Juliet.

THE END.

Transcriber's Note:

Punctuation has been standardised. Hyphenation and spelling have been retained as appear in the original publication except as follows:

Page 6
Mrs. Evering had a very excellant cook, a _changed to_
Mrs. Evering had a very excellent cook, a

Page 35
vous remercie_,--_Il fait beau-tems_ _changed to_
vous remercie_,--_Il fait beau-temps_

Page 72
and then she counted all the window sat _changed to_
and then she counted all the windows at

Page 109
I will have _them_. They will de _changed to_
I will have _them_. They will do

Page 114
kindness, and feeling really some embarrasment _changed to_
kindness, and feeling really some embarrassment