lora observed it, and often queried with her husband what could be
the reason. One day she spoke to Mr. King of the entire absence of
gayety in her sister, and he said he feared young Mr. Fitzgerald
painfully reminded her of her lost son.

Flora reflected upon this answer without being satisfied with it. "It
doesn't seem natural," said she to her husband. "She parted from that
baby when he was but a few weeks old, and he has been dead nearly
twenty years. She has Eulalia to love, and a noble husband, who
worships the very ground she treads on. It don't seem natural. I
wonder whether she has a cancer or some other secret disease."

She redoubled her tenderness, and exerted all her powers of mimicry to
amuse her sister. The young folks screamed with laughter to see her
perform the shuffling dances of the negroes, or to hear her accompany
their singing with imitations of the growling contra-fagotto, or the
squeaking fife. In vain she filled the room with mocking-birds, or
showed off the accomplishments of the parrot, or dressed herself in a
cap with a great shaking bow, like Madame Guirlande's, or scolded in
vociferous Italian, like Signor Pimentero. The utmost these efforts
could elicit from her sister was a faint, vanishing smile.

Mr. King noticed all this, and was pained to observe that his wife's
sadness increased daily. He would not himself have chosen young
Fitzgerald as a suitor for his daughter, fearing he might resemble his
father in character as he did in person; but he was willing to promote
their acquaintance, because the young man seemed to be a favorite with
his lady, and he thought that as a son-in-law he might supply the loss
of her first-born. But, in their rides and other excursions, he was
surprised to observe that Mrs. King assiduously tried to withdraw
Mr. Fitzgerald from her daughter, and attach him to herself. Her
attentions generally proved too flattering to be resisted; but if
the young man, yielding to attractions more suited to his age, soon
returned to Eulalia, there was an unmistakable expression of pain on
her mother's face. Mr. King was puzzled and pained by this conduct.
Entire confidence had hitherto existed between them. Why had she
become so reserved? Was the fire of first-love still smouldering in
her soul, and did a delicate consideration for him lead her to conceal
it? He could not believe it, she had so often repeated that to love
the unworthy was a thing impossible for her. Someti