fuchsias, and on each of her little slippers was embroidered a
bouquet.

"This is the Temple of Flora," said Alfred, turning to his host.
"Flowers everywhere! Natural flowers, artificial flowers, painted
flowers, embroidered flowers, and human flowers excelling them
all,"--glancing at the young ladies as he spoke.

Mr. Royal sighed, and in an absent sort of way answered, "Yes, yes."
Then, starting up, he said abruptly, "Excuse me a moment; I wish to
give the servants some directions."

Floracita, who was cutting leaves from the geranium, observed his
quick movement, and, as he left the room, she turned toward their
visitor and said, in a childlike, confidential sort of way: "Our dear
Mamita used to call this room the Temple of Flora. She had a great
passion for flowers. She chose the paper, she made the garlands for
the curtains, she embroidered the ottomans, and painted that table so
prettily. Papasito likes to have things remain as she arranged them,
but sometimes they make him sad; for the angels took Mamita away from
us two years ago."

"Even the names she gave you are flowery," said Alfred, with an
expression of mingled sympathy and admiration.

"Yes; and we had a great many flowery pet-names beside," replied she.
"My name is Flora, but when she was very loving with me she called me
her Floracita, her little flower; and Papasito always calls me so now.
Sometimes Mamita called me _Pensée Vivace_."