Rarely before had her quick musical ear failed to notice how they
would repeat the same note with greater or less emphasis, then flat
it, then sharp it, varying their performances with all manner of
unexpected changes. But now she was merely vaguely conscious of
familiar sounds, which brought before her that last merry day in her
father's house, when Rosabella laughed so much to hear her puzzle the
birds with her musical vagaries. Memory held up her magic mirror, in
which she saw pictured processions of the vanished years. Thus the
lonely child, with her loving, lingering looks upon the past, was
floated toward an unknown future with the new friend a kind Providence
had sent her.




CHAPTER IX.


Rosa was surprised at the long absence of her sister; and when the sun
showed only a narrow golden edge above the horizon, she began to feel
anxious. She went to the kitchen and said, "Tulee, have you seen
anything of Floracita lately? She went away while I was sleeping."

"No, missy," she replied. "The last I see of her was in her room, with
the embroidery-frame before her. She was looking out of the window, as
she did sometimes, as if she was looking nowhere. She jumped up and
hugged and kissed me, and called me 'Dear Tulee, good Tulee.' The
little darling was always mighty loving. When I went there again, her
needle was sticking in her work, and her thimble was on the frame, but
she was gone. I don't know when she went away. Thistle's come back