"Then you consider women and children property?" inquired Mr.
Percival, looking up from his book.
Mr. Green bowed with a sort of mock deference, and replied: "Pardon me, Mr. Percival, it is so unusual for gentlemen of your birth and position to belong to the Abolition troop of rough-riders, that I may be excused for not recollecting it."
"I should consider my birth and position great misfortunes, if they blinded me to the plainest principles of truth and justice," rejoined Mr. Percival.
The highly conservative gentleman made no reply, but rose to take leave.
"Did your friends the Fitzgeralds return with you?" inquired Mrs.
Delano.
"No," replied he. "They intend to remain until October, Good evening, ladies. I hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing you again." And with an inclination of the head toward Mr. Percival, he departed.
"Why did you ask him that question?" said Flora. "Are you afraid of anything?"
"Not in the slightest degree," answered Mrs. Delano. "If, without taking much trouble, we can avoid your being recognized by Mr. Fitzgerald, I should prefer it, because I do not wish to have any conversation with him. But now that your sister's happiness is no longer implicated, there is no need of caution. If he happens to see you, I shall tell him you sought my protection, and that he has no legal power over you."
The conversation diverged to the Alhambra and Washington Irving; and Flora ended the evening by singing the Moorish ballad of "Xarifa," which she said always brought a picture of Rosabella before her eyes.
The next morning, Mr. Green called earlier than usual. He did not ask for Flora, whom he had in fact seen in the street a few minutes before. "Excuse me, Mrs. Delano, for intruding upon you at such an unseasonable hour," said he. "I chose it because I wished to be sure of seeing you alone. You must have observed that I am greatly interested in your adopted daughter."