“There she is, Smith!” exclaimed Monte, “isn’t she superb?”
Just in front of us was the belle of the season—my unknown beauty of the circular railway, floating gracefully in the embrace of the black moustache.
Her hair was now caught up in a magnificent coil, and its black folds were adorned with a beautiful spray of pearls. Her eyes—and oh! how melting and tender was their look—splendid in their depth of expression, were turned up to the face of her partner, and her form, perfect in its outlines, reposed with easy confidence in his arms. Her arm, round, smooth and dazzling, was shown in fine relief against the black cloth of his coat, and her neck, white as snow, tapered exquisitely from her bare, dimpled shoulders to the shading of her hair.
How my heart throbbed with admiration as she passed me; and again that strange memory of a dream of her face came over me!
Again they came around, and her full face was turned toward me. Heavens, can it be? yes, there, on that lovely arm, just above the tinted kid, a serpent in Etruscan gold wound its coils up the flesh, and I knew it was Carlotta.
“Monte!” I said, grasping his arm tightly, “that’s C’lotta; I know her, I raised her. Lem’me go and speak to her!”
“Wait, Smith, don’t be a fool!” he said, impatiently shaking me off, and making his way across the room, as the music had now ceased.
I turned to the others of our party and kept repeating, “That’s our C’lotta, I know her ‘s well ‘s I want to. She knows me soon ‘s she sees me.”
An elderly gentleman, who had been much annoyed by our noise, and who had been looking very steadily at us for several minutes, now got up from his seat and approached. I looked at him now for the first time, and oh, shade of Hamlet! I recognized my father. The most fervent wish of my heart was that there might be a Samson underneath that floor with his hands already on the pillars.
He did not smile as I pressed his hand, but said, “Come, go with me up to our room, John.”
His presence, and my chagrin and surprise did one good thing—it effectually sobered me.
As we walked out of the room he left me for a moment, and when he rejoined me a lady was on his arm—my mother. There was as much sorrow as joy in her kiss, and we proceeded in silence to their rooms. I took the proffered seat, and no one spoke for some time; then mother burst into tears and said: