anything you ever read in story-books."

"If she was only Papasito's slave," said Flora, "I don't think Mamita
found _that_ any great hardship."

"She did not, my dear. I don't suppose she ever thought of it; but a
great misfortune has grown out of it."

"What is it?" they both asked at once.

Their friend hesitated. "Remember, you have promised to be calm," said
she. "I presume you don't know that, by the laws of Louisiana, 'the
child follows the condition of the mother.' The consequence is, that
_you_ are slaves, and your father's creditors claim a right to sell
you."

Rosabella turned very pale, and the hand with which she clutched a
chair trembled violently. But she held her head erect, and her look
and tone were very proud, as she exclaimed, "_We_ become slaves! I
will die rather."

Floracita, unable to comprehend this new misfortune, looked from one
to the other in a bewildered way. Nature had written mirthfulness in
the shape of her beautiful eyes, which now contrasted strangely with
their startled and sad expression.

The kind-hearted Frenchwoman bustled about the room, moving chairs,
and passing her handkerchief over boxes, while she tried hard to
swallow the emotions that choked her utterance. Having conquered in
the struggle, she turned toward them, and said, almost cheerfully: