ng cups and goblets of antique
pattern shone among cups of Sevres china or Venetian glass; delicious
fruit, looking a thousand times more tempting for being contained in
baskets of silver foliage, peeped from amidst a profusion of fresh flowers,
whose odor was continually shed around by a slight _jet d'eau_ that played
among the leaves. Around upon the grass, seated upon cushions or reclining
on Genoa carpets, were several beautiful girls in most becoming costumes,
their dark locks and darker eyes speaking of "the soft South," while their
expressive gestures and animated looks betokened a race whose temperament
is glowing as their clime. There were several men also, the greater number
of whom appeared in uniform,--bronzed, soldier-like fellows, who had
the jaunty air and easy carriage of their calling,--among whom was one
Englishman, or at least so I guessed from his wearing the uniform of a
heavy dragoon regiment.

"This is my daughter's _fete_," said Don Emanuel, as he ushered me into the
assembly,--"her birthday; a sad day it might have been for us had it not
been for your courage and forethought." So saying, he commenced a recital
of my adventure to the bystanders, who overwhelmed me with civil speeches
and a shower of soft looks that completed the fascination of the fairy
scene. Meanwhile the fair Inez had made room for me beside her, and I found
myself at once the lion of the party, each vying with her neighbor
who should show me most attention, La Senhora herself directing her
conversation exclusively to me,--a circumstance which, considering the
awkwardness of our first meeting, I felt no small surprise at, and which
led me, somewhat maliciously I confess, to make a half allusion to it,
feeling some interest in ascertaining for whom the flattering reception was
really intended.

"I thought you were Charles," said she, blushing, in answer to my question.

"And you are right," said I; "I am Charles."

"Nay, but I meant _my_ Charles."

There was something of touching softness in the tone of these few words
that made me half wish I were _her_ Charles. Whether my look evinced as
much or not, I cannot tell, but she speedily added,--

"He is my brother; he is a captain in the cacadores, and I expected him
here this evening. Some one saw a figure pass the gate and conceal himself
in the trees, and I was sure it was he."

"What a disappointment!" said I.

"Yes; was it not?" said she, hurriedly; and then, as if re