Poor Juliet was childishly delighted with out good fortune. 'Now,' cried she, 'I may have the glass of Burgundy and water that you have been refusing me these two days.' For two days she had almost entirely rejected the simple fare which I could offer, though day and night she ceased not to complain that she was pining for the support which her languid frame required; and this same glass of Burgundy and water was constantly declared to be the only endurable form of sustenance, the panacea which was instantly to cure all her ailments. 'Indeed, Juliet,' said I, 'we must endeavour to think of something else that you can take. All the money we have, excepting what must be paid Mrs Campbell to-morrow, would not buy the smallest quantity of Burgundy that is sold.' 'I am sure Mrs Campbell would wait,' returned Juliet: 'she does not want the money.' 'But we have no right to make her wait, Juliet. The money is not ours but hers. Besides, you know, we find it difficult to meet even our regular expense, so that to recover from debt, would, I am sure, be impossible.' 'Oh, from such a small debt as that,--but I cannot expect that you should inconvenience yourself for me. I have not deserved it from you. I have no right to hope that you should care for my wants or my sufferings,--only from pity to the poor infant at my breast.' Juliet shed tears, and continued to weep and to complain, till, unable to resist, yet determined not to make a concession which I knew by experience would be as useless as ruinous, I started up and quitted her without reply. I left her for some time alone, in hopes that she would recollect the folly of her perseverance, or that her inclination might wander to something more attainable. But when I again opened the door, her hand was upon the lock. 'Oh!' cried she, 'I thought you would never come! Where is it?' 'Dear Juliet,' said I, sickened with her obstinacy, 'you know you ask impossibilities.' She had persuaded herself that she had prevailed; and the disappointment, however trivial, was more than she could bear. She burst into violent sobs, which by degrees increased into a sort of asthmatic fit, seeming to threaten immediate dissolution. Fortunately the family were not yet in bed; and medical assistance, though of the humblest kind, was almost immediately procured. As soon as the fit was removed, the apothecary's apprentice, or as Mrs Campbell called him, 'the doctor,' administered to his patient an opiate, which was so effectual, that she was still in a quiet sleep when the hour came for visiting my new employer.