nd she
formed no acquaintance. She was a woman of a great heart and of rare
beauty. Nothing can ever make up her loss to me; but all the joy that
remains in life is centred in the daughters she has left me. I should
like to introduce them to you; and that is a compliment I never before
paid to any young man. My home is in the outskirts of the city; and
when we have dined at the hotel, according to my daily habit, I will
send off a few letters, and then, if you like to go there with me, I
will call a carriage."

"Thank you," replied the young man; "unless it is your own custom to
ride, I should prefer to walk. I like the exercise, and it will give a
better opportunity to observe the city, which is so different from our
Northern towns that it has for me the attractions of a foreign land."

In compliance with this wish, Mr. Royal took him through the principal
streets, pointing out the public buildings, and now and then stopping
to smile at some placard or sign which presented an odd jumble of
French and English. When they came to the suburbs of the city, the
aspect of things became charmingly rural. Houses were scattered here
and there among trees and gardens. Mr. Royal pointed out one of them,
nestled in flowers and half encircled by an orange-grove, and said,
"That is my home. When I first came here, the place where it stands
was a field of sugar-canes; but the city is fast stretching itself
into the suburbs."

They approached the dwelling; and in answer to the bell, the door was
opened by a comely young negress, with a turban of bright colors
on her head and golden hoops in her ears. Before the gentlemen had
disposed of their hats and canes, a light little figure bounded from
one of the rooms, clapping her hands, and exclaiming, "Ah, Papasito!"
Then, seeing a stranger with him, she suddenly stood still, with a
pretty look of blushing surprise.

"Never mind, Mignonne," said her father, fondly patting her head.
"This is Alfred Royal King, from Boston; my namesake, and the son of
a dear old friend of mine. I have invited him to see you dance. Mr.
King, this is my Floracita."

The fairy dotted a courtesy, quickly and gracefully as a butterfly
touching a flower, and then darted back into the room she had left.
There they were met by a taller young lady, who was introduced as "My
daughter Rosabella." Her beauty was superlative and peculiar. Her
complexion was like a glowing reflection upon ivory from gold in the
sunsh