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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Your father bought her when she was very young, my dear; but I know very well that no wife was ever loved better than she was." "But she always lived with her own father till she married papa," said Floracita. "How then could she be his slave?" "Her father got into trouble about money, my dear; and he sold her." "Our Grandpapa Gonsalez sold his daughter!" exclaimed Rosa. "How incredible!
I will deposit five thousand dollars with Mr. Talbot, for their use, subject to your order, should any unhappy emergency occur. I say their use, bearing in mind the possibility that Floracita may reappear, though that seems very unlikely.
"Yes, Tulipa? we will come," said Floracita. "Is she a flower too?" asked Alfred. "Yes, she's a flower, too," answered Floracita, with a merry little laugh. "We named her so because she always wears a red and yellow turban; but we call her Tulee, for short."
To both of them the lonely island came to seem like a happy home. Floracita was not so wildly frolicsome as she was before those stunning blows fell upon her young life; but the natural buoyancy of her spirits began to return. She was always amusing them with "quips and cranks."
Delano drew an ottoman toward her, and said, "Come and sit here, dear, and tell me all about it, the same as if I were your mother." Floracita complied; and resting one elbow on her knee, and leaning her cheek upon the hand, she looked up timidly and wistfully into the friendly face that was smiling serenely over her.
He was, however, rarely gone more than a week; and, though Rosa's songs grew plaintive in his absence, her spirits rose at once when he came to tell how homesick he had been. As for Floracita, she felt compensated for the increased stillness by the privilege of having Rosa all to herself.
Then, seeing a stranger with him, she suddenly stood still, with a pretty look of blushing surprise. "Never mind, Mignonne," said her father, fondly patting her head. "This is Alfred Royal King, from Boston; my namesake, and the son of a dear old friend of mine. I have invited him to see you dance. Mr. King, this is my Floracita."
Have you ever seen anybody with Floracita since we came here?" "Nobody but Massa Gerald," replied Tulee. "I wonder whether she was discontented here," said Rosa. "I don't see why she should be, for we all loved her dearly; and Gerald was as kind to her as if she had been his own sister.
Floracita sprang out of bed early, eager to explore the surroundings of their new abode. The little lawn looked very beautiful, sprinkled all over with a variety of wild-flowers, in whose small cups dewdrops glistened, prismatic as opals.
Floracita may have learned it from her mother, who was half French, half Spanish. You doubtless observed the foreign sprinkling in their talk. They told me they never spoke English with their mother. Those who have seen her describe her as a wonderful creature, who danced like Taglioni and sang like Malibran, and was more beautiful than her daughter Rosabella.
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