re, and our oars
dropped rubies. High above our heads were great rocks of sapphire,
deepening to lapis-lazuli at the base, with here and there a streak of
malachite."

"It seems like Aladdin's Cave," remarked Flora.

"Yes," replied Mr. Green; "only it was Aladdin's Cave undergoing a
wondrous 'sea change.' A poetess, who writes for the papers under the
name of Melissa Mayflower, had fastened herself upon our party in some
way; and I suppose she felt bound to sustain the reputation of the
quill. She said the Nereids must have built that marine palace, and
decorated it for a visit from fairies of the rainbow."

"That was a pretty thought," said Flora. "It sounds like 'Lalla
Rookh.'"

"It was a pretty thought," rejoined the gentleman, "but can give you
no idea of the unearthly splendor. I thought how you would have been
delighted if you had been with our party. I regretted your absence
almost as much as I did at the opera. But the Blue Grotto, wonderful
as it was, didn't quite drive away Fitzgerald's blue devils, though it
made him forget his vexations for the time. The fact is, just as we
started he received a letter from his agent, informing him of the
escape of a negro woman and her two children; and he spent most of the
way back to Naples swearing at the Abolitionists."

Flora, the side of whose face was toward him, gave Mrs. Delano a
furtive glance full of fun; but he saw nothing of the mischief in her
expressive face, except a little whirlpool of a dimple, which played
about her mouth for an instant, and then subsided. A very broad smile
was on Mr. Percival's face, as he sat examining some magnificent
illustrations of the Alhambra. Mr. Green, quite unconscious of the
by-play in their thoughts, went on to say, "It is really becoming a
serious evil that Southern gentlemen have so little security for that
species of property."

"Then you consider women and children _property_?" inquired Mr.
Percival, looking up from his book.

Mr. Green bowed with a sort of mock deference, and replied: "Pardon
me, Mr. Percival, it is so unusual for gentlemen of your birth and
position to belong to the Abolition troop of rough-riders, that I may
be excused for not recollecting it."

"I should consider my birth and position great misfortunes, if they
blinded me to the plainest principles of truth and justice," rejoined
Mr. Percival.

The highly conservative gentleman made no reply, but rose to take
leave.

"Did your friends