ld. I am
fifteen. I am a young lady."

"So you are, and a very charming one," rejoined he, giving her a
playful tap on the cheek as he spoke.

"I am going to tell Rosa you have come," said she; and she started on
the run.

When they were all together in the cottage she tried not to seem
constrained; but she succeeded so ill that Rosa would have noticed it
if she had not been so absorbed in her own happiness. Gerald was all
affection to her, and full of playful raillery with Flora,--which,
however, failed to animate her as usual.

From that time a change came over the little maiden, and increased as
the days passed on. She spent much of her time in her own room; and
when Rosa inquired why she deserted them so, she excused herself
by saying she wanted to do a great deal of shell-work for Madame
Guirlande, and that she needed so many boxes they would be in the way
in the sitting-room. Her passion for that work grew wonderfully, and
might be accounted for by the fascination of perfect success; for her
coronets and garlands and bouquets and baskets were arranged with so
much lightness and elegance, and the different-colored shells were so
tastefully combined, that they looked less like manufactured articles
than like flowers that grew in the gardens of the Nereids.

Tulee wondered why her vivacious little pet had all of a sudden become
so sedentary in her habits,--why she never took her customary rambles
except when Mr. Fitzgerald was gone, and even then never without her
sister. The conjecture she formed was not very far amiss, for Chloe's
gossip had made her better acquainted with the character of her master
than were the other inmates of the cottage; but the extraordinary
industry was a mystery to her. One evening, when she found Floracita
alone in her room at dusk, leaning her head on her hand and gazing out
of the window dreamily, she put her hand on the silky head and said,
"Is my little one homesick?"

"I have no home to be sick for," she replied, sadly.

"Is she lovesick then?"

"I have no lover," she replied, in the same desponding tone.

"What is it, then, my pet? Tell Tulee."

"I wish I could go to Madame Guirlande," responded Flora. "She was so
kind to us in our first troubles."

"It would do you good to make her a visit," said Tulee, "and I should
think you might manage to do it somehow."

"No. Gerald said, a good while ago, that it would be dangerous for us
ever to go to New Orleans."

"Does h