On Twelfth-day, Madeline made a fine large cake, sweet and spicy; a bean and a haricot were mingled with the sweetmeats that enriched it. Each had a noble slice; whoever happened to have the bean was the king of the party; the possession of the haricot marked the queen of the gala.

The confectioners, with the first smart frost, hastened to employ the peasants to fill their cellars with masses of ice, which, carefully preserved, served during summer to deliciously cool the wines and liqueurs, and to make sorbettes and ices of various fruits.

But to our story. Claudine is awakened from her sweet slumbers by a gentle voice. It is her cousin, the gay Virginie, who arouses her. Ah! what a happy meeting! A twelvemonth has passed since these dear friends bade each other a mournful adieu in the Val di Bagne! But the bitterness of parting is compensated by the joyous moment of re-union Surely there is no

felicity so full, so precious, as the meeting of tender and faithful friends! Claudine thought so when she beheld her cousin, when she again embraced her beloved Virginie, when she saw her large blue eyes filled with tears of sympathy and affection. "Claudine!" "Virginie!" These two were the only words pronounced.

True felicity, like true love, has little need of language to express its emotions. When two hearts rightly know and trust each other, a look-an exclamation suffices, and all is understood.

Claudine knew well how to receive a friend. She sought to make her feel the familiarity of home amidst all the delicate attentions of a distinguished guest. She led her young sisters to follow her example and forward her wishes. "Come, Fanchon," said she, "remember you must give our Virginie whatever you think will please her; and not only obey, but anticipate her orders." But it was not by precept only

that this amiable girl instructed; she gave also the example of manners mild and obliging, of

words gracious and complacent, of looks kind and courteous.

"How shall we amuse ourselves?" said Jus

tine; "for my part, I should like blindman's buff.”—“ And I," exclaimed Fanchon," choose cards."—" And I," cried little Maurice, "would prefer leap-frog." Claudine was silent. "You do not speak, dear Claudine," said Virginie."No,” replied she, with a good-humoured smile,

'no, I do not speak, because I ought not to speak. I am at home; it is for you, dear Virginie, to choose our amusement.”

"But per

haps you will not like my choice." Claudine

gave

her friend a tender kiss, as she said, “We have

but one heart-we have but one taste. Choose

what is it you would prefer? Assuredly I shall prefer it also." "Well, then, let us dance."

"With all my heart;" and Claudine was instantly ready for the dance.

E

Fanchon was disappointed and cross; Justine was sulky; Maurice put himself into a passion. Claudine, with perfect patience, mildly addressed the little rebels: "Every body cannot choose a game at the same moment: dance with us now, and by and by we will play with you." Maurice yielded to her remonstrance; Justine did not stir. Again Claudine spoke: "Come, Justine, give me your hand-So, that's right— We have invited Virginie to our house, to please and make her happy-have we not? To contradict and oppose her, is not the way to please her-is it, Justine?" Justine sprang from her seat, and began the waltz. Claudine approached the little one-"Fanchon, my sweet, do you not love Virginie?—Ah! I know you do. Why then lose this opportunity of shewing your love, by obliging and obeying her ?" Fanchon blushed, cast down her eyes, hesitated. Claudine knelt down, kissed her, and repeated her remonstrance; Fanchon threw her little arms

around the neck of her amiable sister, and told her she was ready to do whatever she desired.

The merry dance began, and the mirthful party sang the airs to which they moved. At every pause in the figure, some joyous exclamation was heard" How happy we are!"—" How delightful it is to waltz !". "Surely no amusement can be compared to dancing!" All this pleasure was the effect of the good example and gentle precept of Claudine. Instead of the calm, tender, and affectionate mode of reasoning she had adopted, had she been positive, violent, unkind, the little ones would probably have been obstinate; or if they had yielded, it would have been with so bad a grace, that nothing like pleasure would have resulted. Instead of mirth and frolic, a scene of contention and dispute would have ensued; and the hours intended for amusement might have been gloomed by quarrels, and even by combats.