A Romance of the Republic. Lydia Maria Child

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A Romance of the Republic - Lydia Maria Child

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the girls' taking any notice of her proceedings.

      During her father's lifetime, Floracita was so continually whirling round in fragmentary dances, that he often told her she rested on her feet less than a humming-bird. But after he was gone, she remained very still from morning till night. When Madame spoke to her of the necessity of giving dancing-lessons, it suggested the idea of practising. But she felt that she could not dance where she had been accustomed to dance before him; and she had not the heart to ask Rosa to play for her. She thought she would try, in the solitude of her chamber, how it would seem to give dancing-lessons. But without music, and without a spectator, it seemed so like the ghost of dancing that after a few steps the poor child threw herself on the bed and sobbed.

      Rosa did not open the piano for several days after the funeral; but one morning, feeling as if it would be a relief to pour forth the sadness that oppressed her, she began to play languidly. Only requiems and prayers came. Half afraid of summoning an invisible spirit, she softly touched the keys to "The Light of other Days." But remembering it was the very last tune she ever played to her father, she leaned her head forward on the instrument, and wept bitterly.

      While she sat thus the door-bell rang, and she soon became conscious of steps approaching the parlor. Her heart gave a sudden leap; for her first thought was of Gerald Fitzgerald. She raised her head, wiped away her tears, and rose to receive the visitor. Three strangers entered. She bowed to them, and they, with a little look of surprise, bowed to her. "What do you wish for, gentlemen?" she asked.

      "We are here concerning the settlement of Mr. Royal's estate," replied one of them. "We have been appointed to take an inventory of the furniture."

      While he spoke, one of his companions was inspecting the piano, to see who was the maker, and another was examining the timepiece.

      It was too painful; and Rosa, without trusting herself to speak another word, walked quietly out of the room, the gathering moisture in her eyes making it difficult for her to guide her steps.

      "Is that one of the daughters we have heard spoken of?" inquired one of the gentlemen.

      "I judge so," rejoined his companion. "What a royal beauty she is!

       Good for three thousand, I should say."

      "More likely five thousand," added the third. "Such a fancy article as that don't appear in the market once in fifty years."

      "Look here!" said the first speaker. "Do you see that pretty little creature crossing the garden? I reckon that's the other daughter."

      "They'll bring high prices," continued the third speaker. "They're the best property Royal has left. We may count them eight or ten thousand, at least. Some of our rich fanciers would jump at the chance of obtaining one of them for that price." As he spoke, he looked significantly at the first speaker, who refrained from expressing any opinion concerning their pecuniary value.

      All unconscious of the remarks she had elicited, Rosa retired to her chamber, where she sat at the window plunged in mournful revery. She was thinking of various articles her mother had painted and embroidered, and how her father had said he could not bear the thought of their being handled by strangers. Presently Floracita came running in, saying, in a flurried way, "Who are those men down stairs, Rosa?"

      "I don't know who they are," replied her sister. "They said they came to take an inventory of the furniture. I don't know what right they have to do it. I wish Madame would come."

      "I will run and call her," said Floracita.

      "No, you had better stay with me," replied Rosa. "I was just going to look for you when you came in."

      "I ran into the parlor first, thinking you were there," rejoined Floracita. "I saw one of those men turning over Mamita's embroidered ottoman, and chalking something on it. How dear papa would have felt if he had seen it! One of them looked at me in such a strange way! I don't know what he meant; but it made me want to run away in a minute. Hark! I do believe they have come up stairs, and are in papa's room. They won't come here, will they?"

      "Bolt the door!" exclaimed Rosa; and it was quickly done. They sat folded in each other's arms, very much afraid, though they knew not wherefore.

      "Ah!" said Rosa, with a sigh of relief, "there is Madame coming." She leaned out of the window, and beckoned to her impatiently.

      Her friend hastened her steps; and when she heard of the strangers who were in the house, she said, "You had better go home with me, and stay there till they are gone."

      "What are they going to do?" inquired Floracita.

      "I will tell you presently," replied Madame, as she led them noiselessly out of the house by a back way.

      When they entered her own little parlor, the parrot called out, "Joli petit diable!" and after waiting for the old familiar response, "Bon jour, jolie Manon!" she began to call herself "Jolie Manon!" and to sing, "Ha! ha! petit blanc, mon bon frčre!" The poor girls had no heart for play; and Madame considerately silenced the noisy bird by hanging a cloth over the cage.

      "My dear children," said she, "I would gladly avoid telling you anything calculated to make you more unhappy. But you must know the state of things sooner or later, and it is better that a friend should tell you. Your father owed money to those men, and they are seeing what they can find to sell in order to get their pay."

      "Will they sell the table and boxes Mamita painted, and the ottomans she embroidered?" inquired Rosa, anxiously.

      "Will they sell the piano that papa gave to Rosa for a birthday present?" asked Flora.

      "I am afraid they will," rejoined Madame.

      The girls covered their faces and groaned.

      "Don't be so distressed, my poor children," said their sympathizing friend. "I have been trying to save a little something for you. See here!" And she brought forth some of the hidden portfolios and boxes, saying, "These will be of great use to you, my darlings, in helping you to earn your living, and they would bring almost nothing at auction."

      They thanked their careful friend for her foresight. But when she brought forward their mother's gold watch and diamond ring, Rosa said, "I would rather not keep such expensive things, dear friend. You know our dear father was the soul of honor. It would have troubled him greatly not to pay what he owed. I would rather have the ring and the watch sold to pay his debts."

      "I will tell the creditors what you say," answered Madame, "and they will be brutes if they don't let you keep your mother's things. Your father owed Signor Papanti a little bill, and he says he will try to get the table and boxes, and some other things, in payment, and then you shall have them all. You will earn enough to buy another piano by and by, and you can use mine, you know; so don't be discouraged, my poor children."

      "God has been very good to us to raise us up such friends as you and the Signor," replied Rosa. "You don't know how it comforts me to have you call us your children, for without you we should be all alone in the world."

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      Such sudden reverses, such overwhelming sorrows, mature characters with wonderful rapidity.

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