azotea is provided with pots containing shrubs and
evergreen plants; some even having small trees, as the orange, lime,
camellia, ferns, and palms; while here and there one is conspicuous by a
_mirador_ (belvedere) arising high above the parapet to afford a better
view of the surrounding country.

It would be difficult to find landscape more lovely, or more
interesting, than that which surrounds the city of Mexico. Look in what
direction one will, the eye is furnished with a feast. Plains, verdant
and varied in tint, from the light green of the _milpas_ (young maize),
to the more sombre _maguey_ plants, which, in large plantations
(magueyals), occupy a considerable portion of the surface; fields of
_chili_ pepper and frijoles (kidney beans); here and there wide sheets
of water between, glistening silver-like under the sun; bounding all a
periphery of mountains, more than one of their summits white with
never-melting snow--the grandest mountains, too, since they are the
Cordilleras of the Sierra Madre or main Andean chain, which here parted
by some Plutonic caprice, in its embrace the beautiful valley of Mexico,
elevated more than seven thousand feet above the level of the sea.

Surveying it from any roof in the city itself, the scene is one to
delight the eye and gladden the heart. And yet on the azotea of a
certain house, or rather in the _mirador_ above it, stood a young lady,
who looked over it without delight in her eye or gladness in her heart.
Instead, the impression upon her countenance told of thoughts that,
besides being sad, dwelt not on the landscape or its beauties.

Luisa Valverde it was, thinking of another land, beautiful too, where
she had passed several years in exile; the last of them marked by an era
the sweetest and happiest of her life. For it was there she first
loved; Florence Kearney being he who had won her heart. And the beloved
one--where was he now? She knew not; did not even know whether he still
lived. He had parted from her without giving any clue, though it gave
pain to her--ignorant of the exigencies which had ruled his sudden
departure from New Orleans. He had told her, however, of his becoming
captain of the volunteer band; which, as she soon after became aware,
had proceeded direct to Texas. Furthermore, she had heard all about the
issue of the ill-fated expedition; of the gallant struggle made by the
men composing it, with the havoc caused in their ranks; of the survivors