nt appeared in the cardinal's quarters. She was
out in the room when he arrived, but she instantly came over and
alighted on his roof, to have a look at him. Most expressive was her
manner. She stood in silence and gazed upon him a long time; all her
liveliness and gayety were gone, and she appeared to be struck dumb by
this new complication of her affairs. It was plain that she was not
pleased. Perhaps her dislike was evident to the new bird, for suddenly
he flew up and snapped at her, which so surprised her that she hopped a
foot into the air. When the time came to open the door into her cage,
the stranger was delighted to go in, but Virginia dodged him, exactly as
she had done his predecessor. He did not lose his temper and condescend
to the vulgarity of flying at her, as the first admirer had done. He
looked interested to see that she avoided him, but after all he did not
take it much to heart. This cardinal, like the other, was not yet
acclimated--if one may call it so--to life in a house, and after a week
he also took his departure.

Now Virginia, free again, became at once very gay. She sang all the
time; she kept the robin stirring; she bathed; she waxed fat. But her
time was approaching. Spring came on, and with the first warm weather
the birds began to disappear from the room. First the tanager expressed
a desire to mingle with society once more, and went his way; then the
orioles were sent to carry on their rough wooing in the big world
outside; the robin followed; and at last Virginia was left with several
big empty cages and only two birds, a reserved and solitude-loving
Mexican clarin, and a saucy goldfinch, so long a captive that he had no
desire for freedom. Now for the first time Virginia was lonely; the
strange quiet of the once lively room worked upon her temper. She
snapped at her little neighbor; she haunted the window-sill and gazed
out; while nothing hindered her passage excepting the weather, our
climate being rather cool for her.

At last July, with its great heat, arrived, and the restless bird was
carried by a kind friend, who offered to do this good deed, to a place
in Central Park, New York, where a small colony of her kind have
established themselves and build and nest every year. Here she was set
free, and here she met her third suitor. The place and the season were
propitious, and Virginia was ready to look with favor on a smart young
cardinal in the brightest of coats, who came in respo