Tulee, who was very observing where her affections were concerned, suspected that she was comparing her own situation with that of Rosa.  One day, when she found her in dreamy revery, she patted her silky curls, and said:  “Does she feel as if she was laid by, like a fifth wheel to a coach?  Never mind!  My little one will have a husband herself one of these days.”

Without looking up, she answered, very pensively:  “Do you think I ever shall, Tulee?  I don’t see how I can, for I never see anybody.”

Tulipa took the little head between her black hands, and, raising the pretty face toward her, replied:  “Yes, sure, little missy.  Do ye s’pose ye had them handsome eyes for nothin’ but to look at the moon?  But come, now, with me, and feed Thistle.  I’m going to give him a pailful of water.  Thistle knows us as well as if he was a Christian.”

Jack Thistle was a great resource for Tulee in her isolation, and scarcely less so for Flora.  She often fed him from her hand, decorated him with garlands, talked to him, and ambled about with him in the woods and on the sea-shore.  The visits of black Tom also introduced a little variety into their life.  He went back and forth from Savannah to procure such articles as were needed at the cottage, and he always had a budget of gossip for Tulee.  Tom’s Chloe was an expert ironer; and as Mr. Fitzgerald was not so well pleased with Tulee’s performances of that kind, baskets of clothes were often sent to Chloe, who was ingenious in finding excuses for bringing them back herself.  She was a great singer of Methodist hymns and negro songs, and had wonderful religious experiences to tell.  To listen to her and Tom was the greatest treat Tulee had; but as she particularly prided herself on speaking like white people, she often remarked that she couldn’t understand half their “lingo.”  Floracita soon learned it to perfection, and excited many a laugh by her imitations.

Tulee once obtained Rosa’s permission to ride back with Tom, and spend a couple of hours at his cabin near “the Grat Hus,” as he called his master’s villa.  But when Mr. Fitzgerald heard of it, he interdicted such visits in the future.  He wished to have as little communication as possible between the plantation and the lonely cottage; and if he had overheard some of the confidences between Chloe and Tulee, he probably would have been confirmed in the wisdom of such a prohibition.  But Tom was a factotum that could not be dispensed with.  They relied upon him for provisions, letters, and newspapers.

Three or four weeks after their arrival he brought a box containing a long letter from Madame Guirlande, and the various articles she had saved for the orphans from the wreck of their early home.  Not long afterward another letter came, announcing the marriage of Madame and the Signor.  Answering these letters and preparing bridal presents for their old friends gave them busy days.  Gerald sometimes ordered new music and new novels from New York, and their arrival caused great excitement.  Floracita’s natural taste for drawing had been cultivated by private lessons from a French lady, and she now used the pretty accomplishment to make likenesses of Thistle with and without garlands, of Tulee in her bright turban, and of Madame Guirlande’s parrot, inscribed, “Bon jour, jolie Manon!”