e in the twilight, her
sister, observing that she was unusually silent, said, "What are you
thinking of, Mignonne?"

"I am thinking of the time we passed in Nassau," replied she, "and of
that Yankee lady who seemed to take such a fancy to me when she came
to Madame Conquilla's to look at the shell-work.

"I remember your talking about her," rejoined Rosa. "You thought her
beautiful."

"Yes," said Floracita, "and it was a peculiar sort of beauty. She
wasn't the least like you or Mamita. Everything about her was violet.
Her large gray eyes sometimes had a violet light in them. Her hair was
not exactly flaxen, it looked like ashes of violets. She always wore
fragrant violets. Her ribbons and dresses were of some shade of
violet; and her breastpin was an amethyst set with pearls. Something
in her ways, too, made me think of a violet. I think she knew it, and
that was the reason she always wore that color. How delicate she was!
She must have been very beautiful when she was young."

"You used to call her the Java sparrow," said Rosa.

"Yes, she made me think of my little Java sparrow, with pale
fawn-colored feathers, and little gleams of violet on the neck,"
responded Flora.

"That lady seems to have made a great impression on your imagination,"
said Rosa; and Floracita explained that it was because she had never
seen anything like her. She did not mention that she had seen that
lady on the island. The open-hearted child was learning to be
reticent.

A few minutes afterward, Rosa exclaimed, "There's Gerald coming!"
Her sister watched her as she ran out to meet him, and sighed, "Poor
Rosa!"

CHAPTER VIII.

A week later, when Gerald had gone to Savannah and Rosa was taking her
daily siesta, Floracita filled Thistle's panniers with several little
pasteboard boxes, and, without saying anything to Tulee, mounted and
rode off in a direction she had never taken, except in the barouche.
She was in search of the Welby plantation.

Mrs. Delano, who was busy with her crochet-needle near the open
window, was surprised to see a light little figure seated on a donkey
riding up the avenue. As soon as Floracita dismounted, she recognized
her, and descended the steps of the piazza to welcome her.

"So you have found the Welby plantation," said she. "I thought you
wouldn't have much difficulty, for there are only two plantations on
the island, this and Mr. Fitzgerald's. I don't know that there are any
other _dwellings_