e of the burden of entertainment.

"Four, my dear!" was the prompt reply. "Sweet girls! young, heedless,
perhaps not always considerate; but the sweetest girls in the world.
Amelia is just your age; what a companion she would be for you! Dear
Margaret! I must write to William, I positively must, and suggest his
asking you for a good long visit. Such a pleasure for you and for
Amelia! Not a word, my dear! I shall consider it a duty, a positive
duty! Amelia is thought to resemble me in many ways; she is the image
of what I was at her age. I am forming her; her mother is something of
an invalid, as I think I have told you. The older girls are away from
home just now,--they make a good many visits; I am always there, and
they feel that they can go. If they were at home, I should beg dear John
Montfort to invite Amelia here; such a pleasure for him, to have young
life in the house. But as it is, William must ask you. Consider it
settled, my love. A--what was done with Aunt Faith's jewels, my dear?
She had some fine pearls, I remember. Vanderdecken pearls they were
originally; I should hardly suppose Aunt Faith would have felt that she
had more than a life interest in them. And the great amethyst necklace;
did she ever show you her jewels, my love?"

Margaret blushed, and braced herself to meet the shock. "I have them,
Cousin Sophronia!" she said, meekly. "Aunt Faith wanted me to have all
her jewels, and she gave them to me before--before she died." Her voice
failed, and the tears rushed to her eyes. She was thinking of the frail,
white-clad figure bending over the ancient jewel-box, and taking out
the pearls. She heard the soft voice saying, "Your great-grandmother's
pearls, my Margaret; they are yours now. Wear them for me, and let me
have the pleasure of seeing them on your neck. You are my pearl,
Margaret; the only pearl I care for now." Dear, dearest Aunt Faith. Why
was she not here?

Before Miss Sophronia could recover her power of speech, a knock came at
the door.

"I beg your pardon, Miss Margaret!" said Elizabeth, putting her head in,
in answer to Margaret's "Come in!" "The butcher is here, miss, and
Frances thought perhaps, would you come out and see him, miss?"

"Certainly!" said Margaret, rising; but Miss Sophronia was too quick for
her.

"In a moment!" she cried, cheerfully. "Tell Frances I will be there in a
moment, Elizabeth! Altogether too much for you, dear Margaret, to have
so much care. _I_ cannot ha