“Begone, dull care! 
  I prithee begone from me! 
      Begone, dull care! 
  Thou and I shall never agree!”

The walk changed to hopping and dancing, as she warbled various snatches from ballets and operas, settling at last upon the quaint little melody, “Once on a time there was a king,” and running it through successive variations.

A very gentle and refined voice, from behind a clump of evergreens, said, “Is this Cinderella coming from the ball?”

She looked up with quick surprise, and recognized a lady she had several times seen in Nassau.

“And it is really you, Senorita Gonsalez!” said the lady.  “I thought I knew your voice.  But I little dreamed of meeting you here.  I have thought of you many times since I parted from you at Madame Conquilla’s store of shell-work.  I am delighted to see you again.”

“And I am glad to see you again, Mrs. Delano,” replied Flora; “and I am very much pleased that you remember me.”

“How could I help remembering you?” asked the lady.  “You were a favorite with me from the first time I saw you, and I should like very much to renew our acquaintance.  Where do you live, my dear?”

Covered with crimson confusion, Flora stammered out:  “I don’t live anywhere, I’m only staying here.  Perhaps I shall meet you again in the woods or on the beach.  I hope I shall.”

“Excuse me,” said the lady.  “I have no wish to intrude upon your privacy.  But if you would like to call upon me at Mr. Welby’s plantation, where I shall be for three or four weeks, I shall always be glad to receive you.”

“Thank you,” replied Flora, still struggling with embarrassment.  “I should like to come very much, but I don’t have a great deal of time for visiting.”

“It’s not common to have such a pressure of cares and duties at your age,” responded the lady, smiling.  “My carriage is waiting on the beach.  Trusting you will find a few minutes to spare for me, I will not say adieu, but au revoir.”

As she turned away, she thought to herself:  “What a fascinating child!  What a charmingly unsophisticated way she took to tell me she would rather not have me call on her!  I observed there seemed to be some mystery about her when she was in Nassau.  What can it be?  Nothing wrong, I hope.”

Floracita descended to the beach and gazed after the carriage as long as she could see it.  Her thoughts were so occupied with this unexpected interview, that she took no notice of the golden drops which the declining sun was showering on an endless procession of pearl-crested waves; nor did she cast one of her customary loving glances at the western sky, where masses of violet clouds, with edges of resplendent gold, enclosed lakes of translucent beryl, in which little rose-colored islands were floating.  She retraced her steps to the woods, almost crying.  “How strange my answers must appear to her!” murmured she.  “How I do wish I could go about openly, like other people!  I am so tired of all this concealment!” She neither jumped, nor danced, nor sung, on her way homeward.  She seemed to be revolving something in her mind very busily.