ere and there a
small Persian carpet above it. Small marble tables were decorated with a
variety of ornaments and French perfumes, or vases filled with the
splendid flowers of a tropical clime. There was a large window at each
end of the room, cut down to the ground, in the French fashion; and
outside of both was a little balcony--the trellice-work covered with
passion-flower and clematis. The doors and other compartments of the room
were not papered, but had French mirrors let into the pannelling. On a low
ottoman of elegant workmanship, covered with a damasked French silk,
reposed Madame de Fontanges, attended by three or four young female slaves,
of different complexions, but none of pure African blood. Others were
seated upon the different Persian carpets about the room, in listless
idleness, or strewing the petals of the orange-flower, to perfume the
apartment with its odour. The only negro was a little boy, about six years
of age, dressed in a fantastic costume, who sat in a corner, apparently in
a very sulky humour. Madame de Fontanges was a Creole,--that is, born in
the West Indies of French parents. She had been sent home to France for her
education, and had returned at the age of fourteen to Guadaloupe, where
she soon after married Monsieur de Fontanges, an officer of rank, and
brother to the governor of the island. Her form was diminutive, but most
perfect; her hand and arm models for the statuary; while her feet were
so small as almost to excite risibility when you observed them. Her
features were regular, and when raised from her usual listlessness,
full of expression. Large hazel eyes, beautifully pencilled eyebrows,
with long fringed eyelashes, dark and luxuriant hair, Grecian nose,
small mouth, with thin coral lips, were set off by a complexion which
even the climate could not destroy, although it softened it into extreme
delicacy.

Such was the person of Madame de Fontanges, now about eighteen years
old, and one of the most beautiful specimens of the French Creole which
could be imagined. Her perfect little figure needed no support; she was
simply attired in a muslin _robe de chambre_, as she reposed upon the
ottoman, waiting with all the impatience of her caste for the setting in
of the sea-breeze, which would give some relief from the oppressive heat
of the climate.

"Eventez! Nina, eventez!" cried she to one of her attendants, who was
standing at the head of the sofa with a large feather fan.

"Ou