masses of domestic and public architecture to the magnificent flowers
and fruit produced, by the labour of countless generations, from
originals so dissimilar that only the records of past ages can trace
or the searching comparisons of science recognise them. I am told that
the present race of flower-birds themselves are a sort of indirect
creation of art. They certainly vary in size, shape, and colour
according to the flower each exclusively frequents; and those which
haunt the cultivated bells of the _leveloo_ present an amazing
contrast to the far tinier and far less beautiful _caree_ which have
not yet abandoned the wildflowers for those of the garden. Above two
hundred varieties distinguished by ornithologists frequent only the
domesticated flowers.

The flight of this swarm of various beauty recalled the conversation
of last night; and breaking off unobserved a long fine tendril of the
leveloo, I said lightly--

"Flower-birds are not so well-trained as _esvee_, bambina."

Never forgetting a word of mine, and never failing to catch with quick
intelligence the sense of the most epigrammatic or delicate metaphor,
Eveena started and looked up, as if stung by a serious reproach.
Fancying that overpowering fatigue had so shaken her nerves, I would
not allow her to speak. But I did not understand how much she had been
distressed, till in her own chamber, cloak and veil thrown aside, she
stood beside my seat, her sleeveless arms folded behind her, drooping
like a lily beaten down by a thunderstorm. Then she murmured sadly--

"I did not think of offending. But you are quite right; disobedience
should never pass."

"Certainly not," I replied, with a smile she did not see. Taking both
the little hands in my left, I laid the tendril on her soft white
shoulders, but so gently that in her real distress she did not feel
the touch. "You see I can keep my word; but never let me tire you
again. My flower-bird cannot take wing if she anger me in earnest."

"Are you not angered now?" she asked, glancing up in utter surprise.

My eyes, or the sight of the leveloo, answered her; and a sweet bright
smile broke through her look of frightened, penitent submission, as
she snatched the tendril and snapped it in my hand.

"Cruel!" she said, with a pretty assumption of ill-usage, "to visit a
first fault with the whip."

"You are hard to please, bambina! I knew no better. Seriously, until I
can measure your strength more truly, neve