like one born to a kingdom.

Floracita, though strikingly handsome, was of a model less superb than
her elder sister. She was a charming little brunette, with laughter
always lurking in ambush within her sparkling black eyes, a mouth like
"Cupid's bow carved in coral," and dimples in her cheeks, that well
deserved their French name, _berceaux d'amour_.

These radiant visions of beauty took Alfred King so much by
surprise, that he was for a moment confused. But he soon recovered
self-possession, and, after the usual salutations, took a seat offered
him near a window overlooking the garden. While the commonplaces of
conversation were interchanged, he could not but notice the floral
appearance of the room. The ample white lace curtains were surmounted
by festoons of artificial roses, caught up by a bird of paradise. On
the ceiling was an exquisitely painted garland, from the centre
of which hung a tasteful basket of natural flowers, with delicate
vine-tresses drooping over its edge. The walls were papered with
bright arabesques of flowers, interspersed with birds and butterflies.
In one corner a statuette of Flora looked down upon a geranium covered
with a profusion of rich blossoms. In the opposite corner, ivy was
trained to form a dark background for Canova's "Dancer in Repose,"
over whose arm was thrown a wreath of interwoven vines and
orange-blossoms. On brackets and tables were a variety of natural
flowers in vases of Sevres china, whereon the best artists of France
had painted flowers in all manner of graceful combinations. The
ottomans were embroidered with flowers. Rosabella's white muslin dress
was trailed all over with delicately tinted roses, and the lace around
the corsage was fastened in front with a mosaic basket of flowers.
Floracita's black curls fell over her shoulders mixed with crimson