t to
him. He wore it as a trophy the remainder of the evening; and none of
the young ladies who teased him for it succeeded in obtaining it.

When Mr. and Mrs. King were in the carriage, he took her hand
tenderly, and said, "My dear, that young man recalled to mind your
infant son, who died with poor Tulee."

With a heavy sigh she answered, "Yes, I am thinking of that poor
little baby."

He held her hand clasped in his; but deeming it most kind not to
intrude into the sanctum of that sad and tender memory, he remained
silent. She spoke no other word as they rode toward their hotel. She
was seeing a vision of those two babes, lying side by side, on that
dreadful night when her tortured soul was for a while filled with
bitter hatred for the man she had loved so truly.

Mrs. Fitzgerald and her son were the earliest among the callers the
next day. Mrs. King happened to rest her hand lightly on the back of
a chair, while she exchanged salutations with them, and her husband
noticed that the lace of her hanging sleeve trembled violently.

"You took everybody by storm last evening, Mrs. King, just as you
did when you first appeared as Norma," said the loquacious Mrs.
Fitzgerald. "As for you, Mr. King, I don't know but you would have
received a hundred challenges, if gentlemen had known you were going
to carry off the prize. So sly of you, too! For I always heard you
were entirely indifferent to ladies."

"Ah, well, the world don't always know what it's talking about,"
rejoined Mr. King, smiling. Further remarks were interrupted by the
entrance of a young girl, whom he took by the hand, and introduced as
"My daughter Eulalia."

Nature is very capricious in the varieties she produces by mixing
flowers with each other. Sometimes the different tints of each are
blended in a new color, compounded of both; sometimes the color of one
is delicately shaded into the other; sometimes one color is marked in
distinct stripes or rings upon the other; and sometimes the separate
hues are mottled and clouded. Nature had indulged in one of her freaks
in the production of Eulalia, a maiden of fifteen summers, the only
surviving child of Mr. and Mrs. King. She inherited her mother's tall,
flexile form, and her long dark eyelashes, eyebrows, and hair; but she
had her father's large blue eyes, and his rose-and-white complexion.
The combination was peculiar, and very handsome; especially the serene
eyes, which, looked out from their dark sur