rama
of life.

These riding parties attracted great attention as they passed through
the streets; for all had heard the rumor of their wealth, and all were
struck by the unusual amount of personal beauty, and the distinguished
style of dress. At that time, the Empress Eugenie had issued her
imperial decree that all the world should shine in "barbaric gold,"--a
fashion by no means distasteful to the splendor-loving sisters. Long
sprays of Scotch laburnum mingled their golden bells with the dark
tresses of Eulalia and Rosen Blumen; a cluster of golden wheat mixed
its shining threads with Flora's black curls; and a long, soft
feather, like "the raven down of darkness," dusted with gold, drooped
over the edge of Mrs. King's riding-cap, fastened to its band by a
golden star. Even Mrs. Fitzgerald so far changed her livery of the
moon as to wear golden buds mixed with cerulean flowers. Mrs. Delano
looked cool as evening among them in her small gray bonnet, with a few
violets half hidden in silver leaves. Old Mr. Bell not unfrequently
joined in these excursions. His white hair, and long silky white
beard, formed a picturesque variety in the group; while all recognized
at a glance the thoroughbred aristocrat in his haughty bearing, his
stern mouth, his cold, turquoise eyes, and the clenching expression of
his hand. Mrs. King seemed to have produced upon him the effect Gerald
had predicted. No youthful gallant could have been more assiduous at
her bridle-rein, and he seemed to envy his grandson every smile he
obtained from her beautiful lips.

Both he and Mrs. Fitzgerald viewed with obvious satisfaction the
growing intimacy between that young gentleman and Eulalia. "Capital
match for Gerald, eh?" said Mr. Bell to his daughter. "They say King's
good for three millions at least,--some say four."

"And Eulalia is such a lovely, gentle girl!" rejoined Mrs. Fitzgerald.
"I'm very fond of her, and she seems fond of me; though of course
that's on account of my handsome son."

"Yes, she's a lovely girl," replied the old gentleman; "and Gerald
will be a lucky dog if he wins her. But her beauty isn't to be
compared to her mother's. If I were Emperor of France, and she were a
widow, I know who would have a chance to become Empress."

But though Mrs. King lived in such an atmosphere of love, and was
the object of so much admiration, with ample means for indulging her
benevolence and her tastes, she was evidently far from being happy.
F