"O, I do, most sadly," said Alice. "And do you, Margarette?" "I think not, sir," said Margarette--while Alice at the same moment cried-- "O, Margarette can have whatever she wants, she is so rich!--not a poor beggar like your own Alice, dependent on the bounty of another for every thing"--and bursting into tears, she hid her face on her uncle's shoulder. "Sweet sensibility, O, la! I heard a little lamb cry, bah!" said Mr. Claremont. "Come, Alice, don't cry about it, but tell me the price of the necklaces." "How can I," said the sobbing Alice, "when you make such cruel sport of my feelings? Indeed, uncle, it is cruel!" "I never make sport of your feelings, my dear, when there is any thing that ought to awaken them," said Mr. Claremont. "But come, tell me the price of the pearl necklaces." "They are fifty dollars apiece." "Whew!" said Mr. Claremont. "And so I must spend a hundred dollars to adorn the necks of my nieces?" "O, Margarette can buy her own, you know uncle, and so you will have to give away but fifty." "I hold Miss Claremont's purse-strings, you know," said Mr. Claremont, "and I shall serve you both alike. Margarette's, as well as yours, must be the gift of her uncle." "I do not wish for one, my dear sir," said Margarette, but Mr. Claremont heeded her not, and opening his pocket book, gave them fifty dollars each. Alice loaded her uncle with kisses and thanks, while it was with evident reluctance that Margarette took hers in her hand. But as some ladies at that instant entered the room, without saying more, she put it in her purse. As soon as the visiters had withdrawn Alice went to her chamber, and Margarette seized the opportunity of being alone with Mr. Claremont, to restore to him the fifty dollars. "My dear sir," said she, "I cannot accept this money, and should have declined it at the moment, only I could not explain before strangers. You will relieve me greatly by taking it again." "By no means, my dear--I should be much pleased that you and Alice should have necklaces alike." "But I do not want a necklace, sir, and should feel very badly to spend fifty dollars on a useless ornament." "Then purchase something else with it, Margarette." "I am in want of nothing, sir, and had much rather restore it to you." "Can you find no use for it, my dear?" asked Mr. Claremont. "O yes, sir--I could find enough to do with this, and ten times more. But perhaps you would think it injudiciously expended." "What should you do with it, Margarette?" asked Mr. Claremont. "Give every cent of it away, sir," Margarette replied. "Very well," said Mr. Claremont. "It is yours, my dear, to throw at the birds, if you please. I can depend on your judgment and principles, that it will not go to indulge idleness or vice." "O, I thank you most sincerely, my dear uncle," said Margarette with warmth--"in behalf of those who are suffering from want. It will give me great delight to be your almoner."