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