mended."

"Heaven forefend," said Colonel Ferrers, hastily. "Is it--I can
hardly hope it--is it truly the pink vase, the pink vase with the
stag's head on it?"

"Ye--yes!" sobbed poor Gertrude, getting up from the floor, and
seeking vainly for her handkerchief. "Oh, I am so sorry!"

"My dear child," cried the Colonel, and he took Gertrude by both
hands, "my dear young benefactress, how can I ever thank you! You
have relieved me of a heavy burden."

"Why? what?" cried all.

The Colonel pointed to the broken china, and gave a great sigh of
relief. "You behold there," he said, "now happily in fragments,
the bane of my existence. That--that horror--was given me three
years ago by a valued servant and friend, my man Guiseppe. He
bought it for my birthday; spent ten of his hard-earned dollars on
it, foolish, faithful creature that he is. What could I do? It
was,--the enormity you perceive. I was obliged to give it a place
of honour,--fortunately, I seldom use this room when I am alone; I
was forced to praise its tint, which I abominate, and its shape,
which is wholly detestable. What would you? I could not wound my
good Guiseppe; the vase has remained, the chief ornament--in his
eyes--of my drawing-room. Now, thanks to you, my charming child, I
am delivered of this encumbrance, and my poor white and gold can
appear without this hideous blot on its purity."