"Several visitors called while we were gone," said Mrs.Delano.
"Our rich Boston friend, Mr.Green, has left his card.

He follows us very diligently." She looked at Flora as she spoke; but though the light from a tall lamp fell directly on her face, she saw no emotion, either of pleasure or embarrassment.
She merely looked up with a smile, as she remarked: "He always seems to be going round very leisurely in search of something to entertain him.

I wonder whether he has found it yet." Though she was really tired with the exertions of the day, the sight of the new tambourine, after supper, proved too tempting; and she was soon practising the saltarello again, with an agility almost equal to that of the nimble Contadina from whom she had learned it.

She was whirling round more and more swiftly, as if fatigue were a thing impossible to her, when Mr.Green was announced; and a very stylishly dressed gentleman, with glossy shirt-bosom and diamond studs, entered the room.

She had had scarcely time to seat herself, and her face was still flushed with exercise, while her dimples were revealed by a sort of shy smile at the consciousness of having been so nearly caught in her rompish play by such an exquisite.