inexperienced mind foresaw few of the difficulties involved in the
career her friends had suggested. She merely expected to study and
work hard; but that seemed a trifle, if she could avoid for herself
and her sister the publicity which their father had so much dreaded.

Floracita, too, seemed like a tamed bird. She was sprightly as ever in
her motions, and quick in her gestures; but she would sit patiently at
her task of embroidery, hour after hour, without even looking up to
answer the noisy challenges of the parrot. Sometimes the sisters,
while they worked, sang together the hymns they had been accustomed
to sing with their father on Sundays; and memory of the missing voice
imparted to their tones a pathos that no mere skill could imitate.

One day, when they were thus occupied, the door-bell rang, and they
heard a voice, which they thought they recognized, talking with
Madame. It was Franz Blumenthal. "I have come to bring some small
articles for the young ladies," said he. "A week before my best
friend died, a Frenchwoman came to the store, and wished to sell some
fancy-baskets. She said she was a poor widow; and Mr. Royal, who
was always kind and generous, commissioned her to make two of her
handsomest baskets, and embroider the names of his daughters on them.
She has placed them in my hands to-day, and I have brought them myself
in order to explain the circumstances."

"Are they paid for?" inquired Madame.

"I have paid for them," replied the young man, blushing deeply; "but
please not to inform the young ladies of that circumstance. And,
Madame, I have a favor to ask of you. Here are fifty dollars. I want
you to use them for the young ladies without their knowledge; and I