if, in memory of our fathers' friendship, I beg of you to command my services, as if I were a brother, should it ever be in my power to serve you."
Rosabella thanked him with a slight inclination of her graceful head; and Floracita, dimpling a quick little courtesy, said sportively, "If some cruel Blue-Beard should shut us up in his castle, we will send for you."
"How funny!" exclaimed the volatile child, as the door closed after him. "He spoke as solemn as a minister; but I suppose that's the way with Yankees. I think cher papa likes to preach sometimes."
Rosabella, happening to glance at the window, saw that Alfred King paused in the street and looked back. How their emotions would have deepened could they have foreseen the future!
CHAPTER III.
A year passed away, and the early Southern spring had again returned with flowers and fragrance. After a day in music and embroidery, with sundry games at Battledoor and The Graces with her sister, Floracita heard the approaching footsteps of her father, and, as usual, bounded forth to meet him. Any one who had not seen him since he parted from the son of his early New England friend would have observed that he looked older and more careworn; but his daughters, accustomed to see him daily, had not noticed the gradual change.
"You have kept us waiting a little, Papasito," said Rosabella, turning round on the music-stool, and greeting him with a smile.
"Yes, my darling," rejoined he, placing his hand fondly on her head.
"Getting ready to go to Europe makes a deal of work."
"If we were sons, we could help you," said Rosabella.
"I wish you were sons!" answered he, with serious emphasis and a deep sigh.
Floracita nestled close to him, and, looking up archly in his face, said, "And pray what would you do, papa, without your nightingale and your fairy, as you call us?"
"Sure enough, what should I do, my little flower?" said he, as with a loving smile he stooped to kiss her.
They led him to the tea-table; and when the repast was ended, they began to talk over their preparations for leaving home.
"Cher papa, how long before we shall go to Paris?" inquired Floracita.
"In two or three weeks, I hope," was the reply.
"Won't it be delightful!" exclaimed she. "You will take us to see ballets and everything."
"When I am playing and singing fragments of operas," said Rosabella, "I often think to myself how wonderfully beautiful they would sound, if all the parts were brought out by such musicians as they have in Europe. I should greatly enjoy hearing operas in Paris; but I often think, Papasito, that we can never be so happy anywhere as we have been in this dear home. It makes me feel sad to leave all these pretty things—so many of them—"
She hesitated, and glanced at her father.
"So intimately associated with your dear mother, you were about to say," replied he. "That thought is often present with me, and the idea of parting with them pains me to the heart. But I do not intend they shall ever be handled by strangers. We will pack them carefully and leave them with Madame Guirlande; and when we get settled abroad, in some nice little cottage, we will send for them. But when you have been in Paris, when you have seen the world and the world has seen you, perhaps you won't be contented to live in a cottage with your old Papasito. Perhaps your heads will become so turned with flattery, that you will want to be at balls and operas all the time."
"No flattery will be so sweet as yours, cher papa," said Floracita.
"No indeed!" exclaimed Rosa. But, looking up, she met his eye, and blushed crimson. She was conscious of having already listened to flattery that was at least more intoxicating than his. Her father noticed the rosy confusion, and felt a renewal of pain that unexpected entanglements had prevented his going to Europe months ago. He tenderly pressed her hand, that lay upon his knee, and looked at her with troubled earnestness, as he said, "Now that you are going to make acquaintance with the world, my daughters, and without a mother to guide you, I want you to promise me that you will never believe any gentleman sincere in professions of love, unless he proposes marriage, and asks my consent."
Rosabella was obviously agitated, but she readily replied, "Do you
suppose, Papasito, that we would accept a lover without asking you
about it? When Mamita querida died, she charged us to tell you everything; and we always do."
"I do not doubt you, my children," he replied; "but the world is full of snares; and sometimes they are so covered with flowers, that the inexperienced slip into them unawares. I shall try to shield you from harm, as I always have done; but when I am gone—"
"O, don't say that!" exclaimed Floracita, with a quick, nervous movement.
And Rosabella looked at him with swimming eyes, as she repeated,
"Don't say that, Papasito querido!"
He laid a hand on the head of each. His heart was very full. With solemn tenderness he tried to warn them of the perils of life. But there was much that he was obliged to refrain from saying, from reverence for their inexperienced purity. And had he attempted to describe the manners of a corrupt world, they could have had no realizing sense of his meaning; for it is impossible for youth to comprehend the dangers of the road it is to travel.
The long talk at last subsided into serious silence. After remaining very still a few moments, Rosabella said softy, "Wouldn't you like to hear some music before you go to bed, Papasito mio?"
He nodded assent, and she moved to the piano. Their conversation had produced an unusually tender and subdued state of feeling, and she sang quietly many plaintive melodies that her mother loved. The fountain trickling in the garden kept up a low liquid accompaniment, and the perfume of the orange-groves seemed like the fragrant breath of the tones.
It was late when they parted for the night. "Bon soir, cher papa" said Floracita, kissing her father's hand.
"Buenas noches, Papasito querido" said Rosabella, as she touched his cheek with her beautiful lips.
There was moisture in his eyes as he folded them to his heart and said, "God bless you! God protect you, my dear ones!" Those melodies of past times had brought their mother before him in all her loving trustfulness, and his soul was full of sorrow for the irreparable wrong he had done her children.
The pensive mood, that had enveloped them all in a little cloud the preceding evening, was gone in the morning. There was the usual bantering during breakfast, and after they rose from table they discussed in a lively manner various plans concerning their residence in France. Rosabella evidently felt much less pleasure in the prospect than did her younger sister; and her father, conjecturing the reason, was the more anxious to expedite their departure. "I must not linger here talking," said he. "I must go and attend to business; for there are many things to be arranged before we can set out on our travels,"
"Hasta luego, Papasito mio" said Rosabella, with an affectionate smile.
"Au
