wanted my friend to see you dance. Select one of your prettiest,
_ma petite_, and Rosabella will play it for you."

Mr. Fitzgerald assiduously placed the music-stool, and bent over the
portfolio while Miss Royal searched for the music. A servant lighted
the candelabra and drew the curtains. Alfred, glancing at Mr. Royal,
saw he was watching the pair who were busy at the portfolio, and that
the expression of his countenance was troubled. His eyes, however,
soon had pleasanter occupation; for as soon as Rosa touched the piano,
Floracita began to float round the room in a succession of graceful
whirls, as if the music had taken her up and was waltzing her along.
As she passed the marble Dancing Girl, she seized the wreath that was
thrown over its arm, and as she went circling round, it seemed as
if the tune had become a visible spirit, and that the garland was a
floating accompaniment to its graceful motions. Sometimes it was held
aloft by the right hand, sometimes by the left; sometimes it was
a whirling semicircle behind her; and sometimes it rested on her
shoulders, mingling its white orange buds and blossoms with her shower
of black curls and crimson fuchsias. Now it was twined round her head
in a flowery crown, and then it gracefully unwound itself, as if it
were a thing alive. Ever and anon the little dancer poised herself for
an instant on the point of one fairy foot, her cheeks glowing with
exercise and dimpling with smiles, as she met her father's delighted
gaze. Every attitude seemed spontaneous in its prettiness, as if the
music had made it without her choice. At last she danced toward her
father, and sank, with a wave-like motion, on the ottoman at his feet.
He patted the glossy head that nestled lovingly on his knee, and
drawing a long breath, as if oppressed with happiness, he murmured,
"Ah, Mignonne!"

The floating fairy vision had given such exquisite pleasure, that all
had been absorbed in watching its variations. Now they looked at
each other and smiled. "You would make Taglioni jealous," said Mr.
Fitzgerald, addressing the little dancer; and Mr. King silently
thanked her with a very expressive glance.

As Rosabella retired from the piano, she busied herself with
rearranging a bouquet she had taken from one of the vases. When Mr.
Fitzgerald stationed himself at her side, she lowered her eyes with a
perceptibly deepening color. On her peculiar complexion a blush showed
like a roseate cloud in a golden