w many years had passed since we saw each other."

"You will realize how long it has been when you see my children,"
rejoined Flora. "My oldest, Alfred Royal, is fitting for college. He
is the image of _cher Papa_; and you will see how Mamita Lila doats
upon him. She must have loved Papasito very much. Then I had a
daughter that died in a few days; then I had my Rosen Blumen, and
you will see who she looks like; then some more came and went to
the angels. Last of all came little Lila, who looks just like her
father,--flaxen hair, pink cheeks, and great German forget-me-nots for
eyes."

"How I shall love them all!" exclaimed Rosa. "And you will love our
Eulalia. I had a little Alfred and a little Flora. They came to us
in Provence, and we left their pretty little bodies there among the
roses."

The sisters sat folded in each other's arms, their souls wandering
about among memories, when Mr. Blumenthal returned from his long
ramble with the children. Then, of course, there was a scene of
exclamations and embraces. Little Lila was shy, and soon ran away to
take refuge in Mamita's chamber; but Rosen Blumen was full of wonder
and delight that such a grand, beautiful lady was the Aunt Rosa of
whom she had heard so much.

"Mamita Lila has stayed away all this time, out of regard to our
privacy," said Flora; "but now I am going to bring her."

She soon returned, arm in arm with Mrs. Delano. Mr. Blumenthal took
her hand respectfully, as she entered, and said: "This is our dear
benefactress, our best earthly friend."

"My guardian angel, my darling Mamita," added Flora.

Mrs. King eagerly stepped forward, and folded her in her arms, saying,
in a voice half stifled with emotion, "Thank God and you for all this
happiness."

While they were speaking together, Flora held a whispered consultation
with her husband, who soon went forth in search of Mr. King, with
strict injunctions to say merely that an unexpected pleasure awaited
him. He hastened to obey the summons, wondering what it could mean.
There was no need of introducing him to his new-found relative. The
moment he entered the room, he exclaimed, "Why, Floracita!"

"So you knew me?" she said, clasping his hand warmly.

"To be sure I did," he answered. "You are the same little fairy that
danced in the floral parlor."

"O, I'm a sober matron now," said she, with a comic attempt to look
demure about the mouth, while her eyes were laughing. "Here is my
daughter Rosa;