"You know Madge of old,--she never says any thing she really thinks.

How can you be excited by any remarks of hers ?" "Cousin Ernest," cried Madge, while the _laughing devil_ in her great black eyes tried to shrink into a hiding-place, "have you not manliness to forgive me, when the rash humor which my mother gave me makes me forgetful ?" She held out her hand with an ardent desire for reconciliation.

She found she had a spirit to contend with, stronger than she imagined; and for the moment she was subdued.
"Not your mother, Margaret," replied Ernest, taking the offered hand with a better grace than I anticipated.

"She is gentle and womanly, like my own.

I know not whence you derived your wickedness." "It is all original.