find Mr. Royal at his counting-room or his hotel, he proceeded to his
suburban residence. When Tulipa informed him that "massa" had not
returned from the city, he inquired for the young ladies, and was
again shown into that parlor every feature of which was so indelibly
impressed upon his memory. Portions of the music of _Cenerentola_ lay
open on the piano, and the leaves fluttered softly in a gentle breeze
laden with perfumes from the garden. Near by was swinging the beaded
tassel of a book-mark between the pages of a half-opened volume. He
looked at the title and saw that it was Lalla Rookh. He smiled, as he
glanced round the room on the flowery festoons, the graceful tangle
of bright arabesques on the walls, the Dancing Girl, and the Sleeping
Cupid. "All is in harmony with Canova, and Moore, and Rossini,"
thought he. "The Lady in Milton's Comus _has_ been the ideal of my
imagination; and now here I am so strangely taken captive by--"

Rosabella entered at that moment, and almost startled him with the
contrast to his ideal. Her glowing Oriental beauty and stately grace
impressed him more than ever. Floracita's fairy form and airy motions
were scarcely less fascinating. Their talk was very girlish. Floracita
had just been reading in a French paper about the performance of _La
Bayadere_, and she longed to see the ballet brought out in Paris.
Rosabella thought nothing could be quite so romantic as to float on
the canals of Venice by moonlight and listen to the nightingales; and
she should _so_ like to cross the Bridge of Sighs! Then they went into
raptures over the gracefulness of Rossini's music, and the brilliancy
of Auber's. Very few and very slender thoughts were conveyed in their
words, but to the young man's ear they had the charm of music; for
Floracita's talk went as trippingly as a lively dance, and the sweet
modulations of Rosabella's voice so softened English to Italian sound,
that her words seemed floating on a liquid element, like goldfish