were always flowing
through her soul, had fashioned her form and was swaying all its
motions; and to this natural gracefulness was now added that peculiar
stylishness of manner, which can be acquired only by familiar
intercourse with elegant society. There was nothing foreign in her
accent, but the modulations of her voice were so musical, that
English, as she spoke it, seemed all vowels and liquid consonants.
She had been heralded as La Senorita, and her dress was appropriately
Spanish. It was of cherry-colored satin, profusely trimmed with black
lace. A mantilla of very rich transparent black lace was thrown over
her head, and fastened on one side with a cluster of red fuchsias,
the golden stamens of which were tipped with small diamonds. The lace
trimming on the corsage was looped up with a diamond star, and her
massive gold bracelets were clasped with, diamonds.

Mr. Green received her with great _empressement_; evidently
considering her the "bright particular star" of the evening. She
accepted her distinguished position with the quietude of one
accustomed to homage. With a slight bow she gave Mr. Green the desired
promise to open the ball with him, and then turned to answer another
gentleman, who wished to obtain her for the second dance. She would
have observed her host a little more curiously, had she been aware
that he once proposed to place her darling Floracita at the head of
that stylish mansion.

Mrs. King's peculiar style of beauty and rich foreign dress attracted
universal attention; but still greater admiration was excited by her
dancing, which was the very soul of music taking form in motion; and
as the tremulous diamond drops of the fuchsias kept time with her
graceful movements, they sparkled among the waving folds of her black
lace mantilla, like fire-flies in a dark night. She was, of course,
the prevailing topic of conversation; and when Mr. Green was not
dancing, he was called upon to repeat, again and again, the account
of her wonderful _debut_ in the opera at Rome. In the midst of one of
these recitals, Mrs. Fitzgerald and her son entered; and a group soon
gathered round that lady, to listen to the same story from her lips.
It was familiar to her son; but he listened to it with quickened
interest, while he gazed at the beautiful opera-singer winding about
so gracefully in the evolutions of the dance.

Mr. King was in the same set with his lady, and had just touched her
hand, as the partners