sing, and weeping and laughing by turns, Mrs.
King said: "That must have been Madame's parrot. The sight of her made
me think of old times, and I said, '_Bon jour, jolie Manon_! Your back
was toward me, and I should have passed on, if my attention had not
been arrested by her wild outpouring of French and Spanish. I suppose
she knew my voice."

"Bless the dear old bird!" exclaimed Flora. "It was she who brought us
together again at last. She shall come in to see you."

They went out to bring in their old pet. But _jolie Manon_ was lying
on the floor of her cage, with eyes closed and wings outstretched. The
joyful surprise had been too much for her feeble old nerves. She was
dead.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

"So you _are_ alive!" exclaimed Rosa, holding her sister back a
little, and gazing upon her face with all her soul in her eyes.

"Yes, very _much_ alive," answered Flora, with a smile that brought
out all her dimples.

"But do tell me," said Rosa, "how you came to go away so strangely,
and leave me to mourn for you as if you were dead."

The dimples disappeared, and a shadow clouded Flora's expressive eyes,
as she replied: "It would take a long while to explain all that,
_sistita mia_. We will talk it over another time, please."

Rosa sighed as she pressed her sister's hand, and said: "Perhaps I
have already conjectured rightly about it, Floracita. My eyes were
opened by bitter experiences after we were parted. Some time I will
explain to you how I came to run to Europe in such a hurry, with
Madame and the Signor."

"But tell me, the first thing of all, whether Tulee is dead," rejoined
Flora.

"You know Madame was always exceedingly careful about expense,"
responded Rosa. "Mrs. Duroy was willing to board Tulee for her work,
and Madame thought it was most prudent to leave her there till we got
established in Europe, and could send for her; and just when we were
expecting her to rejoin us, letters came informing us that Mr. and
Mrs. Duroy and Tulee all died of yellow-fever. It distresses me beyond
measure to think of our having left poor, faithful Tulee."

"When we found out that Mr. Fitzgerald had married another wife,"
replied Flora, "my new Mamita kindly volunteered to go with me
in search of you and Tulee. We went to the cottage, and to the
plantation, and to New Orleans. Everybody I ever knew seemed to be
dead or gone away. But Madame's parrot was alive, and her chattering
led me into a stranger's hou