[figure description] Page 093.[end figure description]

A WEEK later, when Gerald had gone to Savannah
and Rosa was taking her daily siesta, Floracita filled
Thistle's panniers with several little pasteboard boxes, and,
without saying anything to Tulee, mounted and rode off in
a direction she had never taken, except in the barouche.
She was in search of the Welby plantation.

Mrs. Delano, who was busy with her crochet-needle
near the open window, was surprised to see a light little figure
seated on a donkey riding up the avenue. As soon as
Floracita dismounted, she recognized her, and descended
the steps of the piazza to welcome her.

“So you have found the Welby plantation,” said she.
“I thought you would n't have much difficulty, for there
are only two plantations on the island, this and Mr. Fitzgerald's.
I don't know that there are any other dwellings
except the huts of the negroes.” She spoke the last rather
in a tone of inquiry; but Flora merely answered that she
had once passed the Welby plantation in a barouche.

As the lady led the way into the parlor, she said, “What
is that you have in your hand, my dear?”

“You used to admire Madame Conquilla's shell-work,”
replied Flora, “and I have brought you some of mine, to
see whether you think I succeed tolerably in my imitations.”
As she spoke, she took out a small basket and
poised it on her finger.

“Why, that is perfectly beautiful!” said Mrs. Delano.
“I don't know how you could contrive to give it such an

[figure description] Page 094.[end figure description]

air of lightness and grace. I used to think shell-work
heavy, and rather vulgar, till I saw those beautiful productions
at Nassau. But you excel your teacher, my dear
Miss Gonsalez. I should think the sea-fairies made this.”

Four or five other articles were brought forth from the
boxes and examined with similar commendation. Then
they fell into a pleasant chat about their reminiscences of
Nassau; and diverged from that to speak of the loveliness
of their lonely little island, and the increasing beauty of the
season. After a while, Flora looked at her watch, and
said, “I must not stay long, for I did n't tell anybody I
was going away.”

Mrs. Delano, who caught a glimpse of the medallion inserted
in the back, said: “That is a peculiar little watch.
Have you the hair of some friend set in it?”

“No,” replied Flora. “It is the likeness of my father.”
She slipped the slight chain from her neck, and placed the
watch in the lady's hand. Her face flushed as she looked
at it, but the habitual paleness soon returned.

“You were introduced to me as a Spanish young lady,”
said she, “but this face is not Spanish. What was your
father's name?”

“Mr. Alfred Royal of New Orleans,” answered Flora.

“But your name is Gonsalez,” said she.

Flora blushed crimson with the consciousness of having
betrayed the incognito assumed at Nassau. “Gonsalez
was my mother's name,” she replied, gazing on the floor
while she spoke.

Mrs. Delano looked at her for an instant, then, drawing
her gently toward her, she pressed her to her side, and
said with a sigh, “Ah, Flora, I wish you were my
daughter.”

[figure description] Page 095.[end figure description]

“O, how I wish I was!” exclaimed the young girl,
looking up with a sudden glow; but a shadow immediately
clouded her expressive face, as she added, “But you
would n't want me for a daughter, if you knew everything
about me.”

The lady was obviously troubled. “You seem to be surrounded
by mysteries, my little friend,” responded she. “I
will not ask you for any confidence you are unwilling to
bestow. But I am a good deal older than you, and I know
the world better than you do. If anything troubles you, or
if you are doing anything wrong, perhaps if you were to
tell me, I could help you out of it.”

“O, no, I'm not doing anything wrong,” replied Floracita,
eagerly. “I never did anything wrong in my life.”
Seeing a slight smile hovering about the lady's lips, she
made haste to add: “I did n't mean exactly that. I mean
I never did anything very wrong. I'm cross sometimes,
and I have told some fibititas; but then I could n't seem
to help it, things were in such a tangle. It comes more
natural to me to tell the truth.”

“That I can readily believe,” rejoined Mrs. Delano.
“But I am not trying to entrap your ingenuousness into a
betrayal of your secrets. Only remember one thing; if
you ever do want to open your heart to any one, remember
that I am your true friend, and that you can trust me.”

“O, thank you! thank you!” exclaimed Flora, seizing
her hand and kissing it fervently.

“But tell me one thing, my little friend,” continued
Mrs. Delano. “Is there anything I can do for you now?”

“I came to ask you to do something for me,” replied
Flora; “but you have been so kind to me, that it has made
me almost forget my errand. I have very particular

[figure description] Page 096.[end figure description]

reasons for wanting to earn some money. You used to admire
the shell-work in Nassau so much, that I thought, if
you liked mine, you might be willing to buy it, and that
perhaps you might have friends who would buy some. i
have tried every way to think how I could manage to sell
my work.”

“I will gladly buy all you have,” rejoined the lady,
“and I should like to have you make me some more;
especially of these garlands of rice-shells, trembling so
lightly on almost invisible silver wire.”

“I will make some immediately,” replied Flora. “But
I must go, dear Mrs. Delano. I wish I could stay longer,
but I cannot.”

“When will you come again?” asked the lady.

“I can't tell,” responded Flora, “for I have to manage
to come here.”

“That seems strange,” said Mrs. Delano.

“I know it seems strange,” answered the young girl,
with a kind of despairing impatience in her tone. “But
please don't ask me, for everything seems to come right out
to you; and I don't know what I ought to say, indeed I don't.”

“I want you to come again as soon as you can,” said
Mrs. Delano, slipping a gold eagle into her hand. “And
now go, my dear, before you tell me more than you wish
to.”

“Not more than I wish,” rejoined Floracita; “but more
than I ought. I wish to tell you everything.”

In a childish way she put up her lips for a kiss, and the
lady drew her to her heart and caressed her tenderly.

When Flora had descended the steps of the piazza, she
turned and looked up. Mrs. Delano was leaning against one
of the pillars, watching her departure. Vines of gossamer

[figure description] Page 097.[end figure description]

lightness were waving round her, and her pearly complexion
and violet-tinted dress looked lovely among those aerial
arabesques of delicate green. The picture impressed Flora
all the more because it was such a contrast to the warm
and gorgeous styles of beauty to which she had been accustomed.
She smiled and kissed her hand in token of
farewell; the lady returned the salutation, but she thought
the expression of her face was sad, and the fear that this
new friend distrusted her on account of unexplained mysteries
haunted her on her way homeward.

Mrs. Delano looked after her till she and her donkey
disappeared among the trees in the distance. “What a
strange mystery is this!” murmured she. “Alfred Royal's
child, and yet she bears her mother's name. And why does
she conceal from me where she lives? Surely, she cannot
be consciously doing anything wrong, for I never saw such
perfect artlessness of look and manner.” The problem occupied
her thoughts for days after, without her arriving at
any satisfactory conjecture.

Flora, on her part, was troubled concerning the distrust
which she felt must be excited by her mysterious position,
and she was continually revolving plans to clear herself from
suspicion in the eyes of her new friend. It would have
been an inexpressible consolation if she could have told
her troubles to her elder sister, from whom she had never
concealed anything till within the last few weeks. But,
alas! by the fault of another, a barrier had arisen between
them, which proved an obstruction at every turn of their daily
intercourse; for while she had been compelled to despise
and dislike Gerald, Rosa was always eulogizing his noble
and loving nature, and was extremely particular to have his
slightest wishes obeyed. Apart from any secret reasons for

[figure description] Page 098.[end figure description]

wishing to obtain money, Floracita was well aware that
it would not do to confess her visit to Mrs. Delano; for
Gerald had not only forbidden their making any acquaintances,
but he had also charged them not to ride or walk in
the direction of either of the plantations unless he was with
them.

Day after day, as Flora sat at work upon the garlands
she had promised, she was on the watch to elude his vigilance;
but more than a week passed without her finding
any safe opportunity. At last Gerald proposed to gratify
Rosa's often-expressed wish, by taking a sail to one of the
neighboring islands. They intended to make a picnic of
it, and return by moonlight. Rosa was full of pleasant anticipations,
which, however, were greatly damped when her
sister expressed a decided preference for staying at home.
Rosa entreated, and Gerald became angry, but she persisted
in her refusal. She said she wanted to use up all her
shells, and all her flosses and chenilles. Gerald swore
that he hated the sight of them, and that he would throw
them all into the sea if she went on wearing her beautiful
eyes out over them. Without looking up from her work,
she coolly answered, “Why need you concern yourself about
my eyes, when you have a wife with such beautiful eyes?”

Black Tom and Chloe and the boat were in waiting, and
after a flurried scene they departed reluctantly without her.

“I never saw any one so changed as she is,” said Rosa.
“She used to be so fond of excursions, and now she wants
to work from morning till night.”

“She's a perverse, self-willed, capricious little puss.
She's been too much indulged. She needs to be brought
under discipline,” said Gerald, angrily whipping off a blossom
with his rattan as they walked toward the boat.

[figure description] Page 099.[end figure description]

As soon as they were fairly off, Flora started on a second
visit to the Welby plantation. Tulee noticed all this
in silence, and shook her head, as if thoughts were brooding
there unsafe for utterance.

Mrs. Delano was bending over her writing-desk finishing
a letter, when she perceived a wave of fragrance, and,
looking up, she saw Flora on the threshold of the open
door, with her arms full of flowers.

“Excuse me for interrupting you,” said she, dropping
one of her little quick courtesies, which seemed half frolic,
half politeness. “The woods are charming to-day. The
trees are hung with curtains of jasmine, embroidered all
over with golden flowers. You love perfumes so well, I
could n't help stopping by the way to load Thistle with an
armful of them.”

“Thank you, dear,” replied Mrs. Delano. “I rode out
yesterday afternoon, and I thought I had never seen anything
so beautiful as the flowery woods and the gorgeous
sunset. After being accustomed to the splendor of these
Southern skies, the Northern atmosphere will seem cold
and dull.”

“Shall you go to the North soon?” inquired Flora,
anxiously.

“I shall leave here in ten or twelve days,” she replied;
“but I may wait a short time in Savannah, till March has
gone; for that is a blustering, disagreeable month in New
England, though it brings you roses and perfume. I
came to Savannah to spend the winter with my friends,
Mr. and Mrs. Welby; but I have always taken a great
fancy to this island, and when they were suddenly called
away to Arkansas by the illness of a son, I asked their
permission to come here for a few weeks and watch the

[figure description] Page 100.[end figure description]

beautiful opening of the spring. I find myself much inclined
to solitude since I lost a darling daughter, who died
two years ago. If she had lived, she would have been
about your age.”

“I am so sorry you are going away,” said Flora. “It
seems as if I had always known you. I don't know what
I shall do without you. But when you go back among
your friends, I suppose you will forget all about poor little
me.”

“No, my dear little friend, I shall never forget you,”
she replied; “and when I come again, I hope I shall find
you here.”

“I felt troubled when I went away the other day,” said
Flora. “I thought you seemed to look sadly after me, and
I was afraid you thought I had done something wicked,
because I said you would n't wish I were your daughter if
you knew everything about me. So I have come to tell
you my secrets, as far as I can without betraying other
people's. I am afraid you won't care anything more about
me after I have told you; but I can't help it if you don't.
Even that would be better than to have you suspect me of
being bad.”

Mrs. Delano drew an ottoman toward her, and said,
“Come and sit here, dear, and tell me all about it, the
same as if I were your mother.”

Floracita complied; and resting one elbow on her knee,
and leaning her cheek upon the hand, she looked up timidly
and wistfully into the friendly face that was smiling
serenely over her. After a moment's pause, she said
abruptly: “I don't know how to begin, so I won't begin
at all, but tell it right out. You see, dear Mrs. Delano, I
am a colored girl.”

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The lady's smile came nearer to a laugh than was usual
with her. She touched the pretty dimpled cheek with her
jewelled finger, as she replied: “O, you mischievous little
kitten! I thought you were really going to tell me something
about your troubles. But I see you are hoaxing me.
I remember when you were at Madame Conquilla's you always
seemed to be full of fun, and the young ladies there
said you were a great rogue.”

“But this is not fun; indeed it is not,” rejoined Flora.
“I am a colored girl.”

She spoke so earnestly that the lady began to doubt the
evidence of her own eyes. “But you told me that Mr.
Alfred Royal was your father,” said she.

“So he was my father,” replied Flora; “and the kindest
father that ever was. Rosa and I were brought up like
little princesses, and we never knew that we were colored.
My mother was the daughter of a rich Spanish gentleman
named Gonsalez. She was educated in Paris, and was
elegant and accomplished. She was handsomer than Rosa;
and if you were to see Rosa, you would say nobody could
be handsomer than she is. She was good, too. My father
was always saying she was the dearest and best wife in the
world. You don't know how he mourned when she died.
He could n't bear to have anything moved that she had
touched. But cher papa died very suddenly; and first
they told us that we were very poor, and must earn our
living; and then they told us that our mother was a slave,
and so, according to law, we were slaves too. They would
have sold us at auction, if a gentleman who knew us when
papa was alive had n't smuggled us away privately to
Nassau. He had been very much in love with Rosa for
a good while; and he married her, and I live with them.

[figure description] Page 102.[end figure description]

But he keeps us very much hidden; because, he says, he
should get into lawsuits and duels and all sorts of troubles
with papa's creditors if they should find out that he helped
us off. And that was the reason I was called Señorita Gonsalez
in Nassau, though my real name is Flora Royal.”

She went on to recount the kindness of Madame Guirlande,
and the exciting particulars of their escape; to all of
which Mrs. Delano listened with absorbed attention. As
they sat thus, they made a beautiful picture. The lady,
mature in years, but scarcely showing the touch of time,
was almost as fair as an Albiness, with serene lips, and a
soft moonlight expression in her eyes. Every attitude and
every motion indicated quietude and refinement. The
young girl, on the contrary, even when reclining, seemed
like impetuosity in repose for a moment, but just ready to
spring. Her large dark eyes laughed and flashed and
wept by turns, and her warmly tinted face glowed like the
sunlight, in its setting of glossy black hair. The lady
looked down upon her with undisguised admiration while
she recounted their adventures in lively dramatic style,
throwing in imitations of the whistling of Ça ira, and the
tones of the coachman as he sang, “Who goes there?”

“But you have not told me,” said Mrs. Delano, “who
the gentleman was that married your sister. Ah, I see
you hesitate. No matter. Only tell me one thing, — is he
kind to you?”

Flora turned red and pale, and red again.

“Let that pass, too,” said the lady. “I asked because
I wished to know if I could help you in any way. I see
you have brought some more boxes of shell-work, and by
and by we will examine them. But first I want to tell
you that I also have a secret, and I will confide it to you

[figure description] Page 103.[end figure description]

that you may feel assured I shall love you always. Flora,
dear, when your father and I were young, we were in love
with each other, and I promised to be his wife.”

“So you might have been my Mamita!” exclaimed Floracita,
impetuously.

“No, not your Mamita, dear,” replied Mrs. Delano, smiling.
“You call me the Java sparrow, and Java sparrows
never hatch gay little humming-birds or tuneful mocking-birds.
I might tell you a long story about myself, dear;
but the sun is declining, and you ought not to be out after
dusk. My father was angry about our love, because Alfred
was then only a clerk with a small salary. They carried
me off to Europe, and for two years I could hear nothing
from Alfred. Then they told me he was married; and after
a while they persuaded me to marry Mr. Delano. I ought
not to have married him, because my heart was not in it.
He died and left me with a large fortune and the little
daughter I told you of. I have felt very much alone since
my darling was taken from me. That void in my heart
renders young girls very interesting to me. Your looks
and ways attracted me when I first met you; and when
you told me Alfred Royal was your father, I longed to
clasp you to my heart. And now you know, my dear
child, that you have a friend ever ready to listen to any
troubles you may choose to confide, and desirous to remove
them if she can.”

She rose to open the boxes of shell-work; but Flora
sprung up, and threw herself into her arms, saying, “My
Papasito sent you to me, — I know he did.”

After a few moments spent in silent emotion, Mrs.
Delano again spoke of the approaching twilight, and with
mutual caresses they bade each other adieu.

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Four or five days later, Floracita made her appearance
at the Welby plantation in a state of great excitement.
She was in a nervous tremor, and her eyelids were swollen
as if with much weeping. Mrs. Delano hastened to enfold
her in her arms, saying: “What is it, my child? Tell
your new Mamita what it is that troubles you so.”

“O, may I call you Mamita?” asked Flora, looking up
with an expression of grateful love that warmed all the
fibres of her friend's heart. “O, I do so need a Mamita!
I am very wretched; and if you don't help me, I don't
know what I shall do!”

“Certainly, I will help you, if possible, when you have
told me your trouble,” replied Mrs. Delano.

“Yes, I will tell,” said Flora, sighing. “Mr. Fitzgerald
is the gentleman who married my sister; but we don't live
at his plantation. We live in a small cottage hidden away
in the woods. You never saw anybody so much in love
as he was with Rosa. When we first came here, he was
never willing to have her out of his sight a moment. And
Rosa loves him so! But for these eight or ten weeks past
he has been making love to me; though he is just as affectionate
as ever with Rosa. When she is playing to him,
and I am singing beside her, he keeps throwing kisses to
me behind her back. It makes me feel so ashamed that I
can't look my sister in the face. I have tried to keep out
of his way. When I am in the house I stick to Rosa like
a burr; and I have given up riding or walking, except
when he is away. But there's no telling when he is away.
He went away yesterday, and said he was going to Savannah
to be gone a week; but this morning, when I went
into the woods behind the cottage to feed Thistle, he was
lurking there. He seized me, and held his hand over my

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mouth, and said I should hear him. Then he told me that
Rosa and I were his slaves; that he bought us of papa's
creditors, and could sell us any day. And he says he will
carry me off to Savannah and sell me if I don't treat him
better. He would not let me go till I promised to meet
him in Cypress Grove at dusk to-night. I have been trying
to earn money to go to Madame Guirlande, and get
her to send me somewhere where I could give dancing-lessons,
or singing-lessons, without being in danger of being
taken up for a slave. But I don't know how to get to
New Orleans alone; and if I am his slave, I am afraid he
will come there with officers to take me. So, dear new
Mamita, I have come to you, to see if you can't help me to
get some money and go somewhere.”

Mrs. Delano pressed her gently to her heart, and responded
in tones of tenderest pity: “Get some money and
go somewhere, you poor child! Do you think I shall let
dear Alfred's little daughter go wandering alone about the
world? No, darling, you shall live with me, and be my
daughter.”

“And don't you care about my being colored and a
slave?” asked Floracita, humbly.

“Let us never speak of that,” replied her friend. “The
whole transaction is so odious and wicked that I can't
bear to think of it.”

“I do feel so grateful to you, my dear new Mamita, that
I don't know what to say. But it tears my heart in two
to leave Rosa. We have never been separated for a day
since I was born. And she is so good, and she loves me
so! And Tulee, too. I did n't dare to try to speak to
her. I knew I should break down. All the way coming
here I was frightened for fear Gerald would overtake me

[figure description] Page 106.[end figure description]

and carry me off. And I cried so, thinking about Rosa
and Tulee, not knowing when I should see them again,
that I could n't see; and if Thistle had n't known the way
himself, I should n't have got here. Poor Thistle! It
seemed as if my heart would break when I threw the
bridle on his neck and left him to go back alone; I did n't
dare to hug him but once, I was so afraid. O, I am so
glad that you will let me stay here!”

“I have been thinking it will not be prudent for you to
stay here, my child,” replied Mrs. Delano. “Search will
be made for you in the morning, and you had better be out
of the way before that. There are some dresses belonging
to Mrs. Welby's daughter in a closet up stairs. I will
borrow one of them for you to wear. The boat from Beaufort
to Savannah will stop here in an hour to take some
freight. We will go to Savannah. My colored laundress
there has a chamber above her wash-room where you will
be better concealed than in more genteel lodgings. I will
come back here to arrange things, and in a few days I will
return to you and take you to my Northern home.”

The necessary arrangements were soon made; and when
Flora was transformed into Miss Welby, she smiled very
faintly as she remarked, “How queer it seems to be always
running away.”

“This is the last time, my child,” replied Mrs. Delano.
“I will keep my little bird carefully under my wings.”

When Flora was in the boat, hand in hand with her new
friend, and no one visible whom she had ever seen before,
her excitement began to subside, but sadness increased.
In her terror the poor child had scarcely thought of anything
except the necessity of escaping somewhere. But
when she saw her island home receding from her, she began
to realize the importance of the step she was taking.

[figure description] Page 107.[end figure description]

She fixed her gaze on that part where the lonely cottage
was embowered, and she had a longing to see even a little
whiff of smoke from Tulee's kitchen. But there was no
sign of life save a large turkey-buzzard, like a black vulture,
sailing gracefully over the tree-tops. The beloved
sister, the faithful servant, the brother from whom she had
once hoped so much, the patient animal that had borne her
through so many pleasant paths, the flowery woods, and
the resounding sea, had all vanished from her as suddenly
as did her father and the bright home of her childhood.

The scenes through which they were passing were beautiful
as Paradise, and all nature seemed alive and jubilant.
The white blossoms of wild-plum-trees twinkled among
dark evergreens, a vegetable imitation of starlight. Widespreading
oaks and superb magnolias were lighted up with
sudden flashes of color, as scarlet grosbeaks flitted from
tree to tree. Sparrows were chirping, doves cooing, and
mocking-birds whistling, now running up the scale, then
down the scale, with an infinity of variations between.
The outbursts of the birds were the same as in seasons that
were gone, but the listener was changed. Rarely before
had her quick musical ear failed to notice how they would
repeat the same note with greater or less emphasis, then
flat it, then sharp it, varying their performances with all
manner of unexpected changes. But now she was merely
vaguely conscious of familiar sounds, which brought before
her that last merry day in her father's house, when Rosabella
laughed so much to hear her puzzle the birds with
her musical vagaries. Memory held up her magic mirror,
in which she saw pictured processions of the vanished
years. Thus the lonely child, with her loving, lingering
looks upon the past, was floated toward an unknown future
with the new friend a kind Providence had sent her.

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