All this that I have set down comes back to you long afterward, when
you recall with tears of regret your reproachful words, or some swift
outbreak of passion.
Little Madge is a friend of Nelly's,--a mischievous, blue-eyed hoiden.
They tease you about Madge. You do not of course care one straw for her,
but yet it is rather pleasant to be teased thus. Nelly never does this;
oh no, not she. I do not know but in the age of childhood the sister is
jealous of the affections of a brother, and would keep his heart wholly
at home, until, suddenly and strangely, she finds her own wandering.
But after all Madge is pretty, and there is something taking in her
name. Old people, and very precise people, call her Margaret Boyne. But
you do not: it is only plain Madge; it sounds like her, very rapid and
mischievous. It would be the most absurd thing in the world for you to
like her, for she teases you in innumerable ways: she laughs at your big
shoes, (such a sweet little foot as she has!) and she pins strips of
paper on your coat-collar; and time and again she has worn off your hat
in triumph, very well knowing that you--such a quiet body, and so much
afraid of her--will never venture upon any liberties with her gypsy
bonnet.
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