This was the impression left on Florence’s mind, which was productive of much mischief.  At a late hour the company dispersed.  Fanny returned home, weary and sick at heart.  Her conversation with Florence had awakened painful reminiscences of the past, and the gray daylight was beginning to streak the eastern horizon ere her heavy lids closed in slumber.  In a few days Florence Woodburn departed for New Orleans, where her mother’s brother resided.  We will take passage with her and pay a visit to Dr. Lacey in his Southern home.

CHAPTER XI

A glance at new Orleans society

The house which Dr. Lacey occupied was situated on one of the pleasantest streets of New Orleans.  It was a large, airy structure, which had formerly been owned by a wealthy French gentleman who had spared neither money nor pains to adorn it with every elegance which could minister to the luxurious habits common to a Southern clime.  When it passed into the hands of Dr. Lacey’s father, he gratified his Northern taste, and fitted it up with every possible convenience, molding its somewhat ancient aspect into a more modern style.

When Dr. Lacey reached the age of twenty-one, his father made him the owner of the house, he himself removing to another part of the city.  At the time of which we are speaking, nothing could exceed the beauty of the house and grounds.

The yard which surrounded the building was large, and laid out with all the taste of a perfect connoisseur.  In its center was a fountain, whose limpid waters fell into a large marble basin, while the spray which constantly arose from the falling stream seemed to render the heat of that sultry climate less oppressive.  Scattered throughout the yard were the numerous trees and flowering shrubs which grow in profusion at the “sunny South.”  Here the beautiful magnolia shook its white blossoms in the evening breeze, and there the dark green foliage of the orange trees formed an effectual screen from the mid-day sun.

The building was surrounded on all sides by a double piazza, the slender pillars of which were entwined by the flowering honeysuckle and luxuriant passion-flower, which gave the house the appearance of a closely wreathed arbor.  Within the piazza was filled with rare tropical plants.  The beautiful oleander, magnificent rose and sweet-scented geranium, here united their fragrance, while the scarlet verbenum and brilliant heliotrope added beauty to the scene.

The interior of the building corresponded with the exterior.  The rooms, large and airy, were carpeted with velvet, and adorned with costly marble and rosewood furniture.  The windows, which were constructed in the French style, that is, reaching to the floor, were curtained with richly-embroidered lace.  Let us ascend the winding staircase, and enter the dressing room of the owner of all this splendor.

Half reclining on a crimson lounge sits Dr. Lacey, dressed in a fashionable brocade morning gown.  On first glancing at him we think there is no change in his countenance since we last saw him on Mrs. Crane’s steps in Frankfort, but as we note the expression of his face we can perceive a shade of anxiety resting there.  At last he rises and rather impatiently pulls the bell rope.