“Those diamonds seem to trouble you, dearest,” rejoined he, smiling.  “I have no objection to your selling them.  You become them, and they become you; but I think school-houses will shine as brighter jewels in the better world.”

Here Flora came in with all her tribe; and when the welcomes were over, her first inquiries were for Madame and the Signor.

“They are well,” replied Mr. King, “and they seem to be as contented as tabbies on a Wilton rug.  They show signs of age, of course.  The Signor has done being peppery, and Madame’s energy has visibly abated; but her mind is as lively as ever.  I wish I could remember half the stories she repeated about the merry pranks of your childhood.  She asked a great many questions about Jolie Manon; and she laughed till she cried while she described, in dramatic style, how you crazed the poor bird with imitations, till she called you Joli petit diable”

“How I wish I had known mamma then!  How funny she must have been!” exclaimed Lila.

“I think you have heard some performances of hers that were equally funny,” rejoined Mrs. Delano.  “I used to be entertained with a variety of them; especially when we were in Italy.  If any of the pifferari went by, she would imitate the drone of their bagpipes in a manner irresistibly comic.  And if she saw a peasant-girl dancing, she forthwith went through the performance to the life.”

“Yes, Mamita,” responded Flora; “and you know I fancied myself a great musical composer in those days,—­a sort of feminine Mozart; but the qui vive was always the key I composed in.”

“I used to think the fairies helped you about that, as well as other things,” replied Mrs. Delano.

“I think the fairies help her now,” said Mr. Blumenthal; “and well they may, for she is of their kith and kin.”

This playful trifling was interrupted by the sound of the folding-doors rolling apart; and in the brilliantly lighted adjoining room a tableau became visible, in honor of the birthday.  Under festoons of the American flag, surmounted by the eagle, stood Eulalia, in ribbons of red, white, and blue, with a circle of stars round her head.  One hand upheld the shield of the Union, and in the other the scales of Justice were evenly poised.  By her side stood Rosen Blumen, holding in one hand a gilded pole surmounted by a liberty-cap, while her other hand rested protectingly on the head of Tulee’s Benny, who was kneeling and looking upward in thanksgiving.

Scarcely had the vision appeared before Joe Bright’s voice was heard leading invisible singers through the tune “Hail to the Chief,” which Alfred Blumenthal accompanied with a piano.  As they sang the last line the striped festoons fell and veiled the tableau.  Then Mr. Bright, who had returned a captain, appeared with his company, consisting of Tom and Chloe with their children, and Tulee with her children, singing a parody composed by himself, of which the chorus was:—­