"You shall have all the roses, sir, and all my flowers, if you will let my servant gather them; for I believe you might prick your fingers, there being also thorns. But while Thoné is at that work, perhaps you will like to walk in out of the sun, which is too hot for you, I am sure." She led us to the parlor where she had been singing, the piano still stood open. "But," said Seraphael, taking the first chair as if it were his own, "we disturb you! What were you doing, you and Carl? I ask his pardon,--Mr. Auchester." "We two did nothing, sir; I was only singing. But that can very well be put off till after breakfast, which will be ready in a few minutes." "Breakfast?" I thought, but Clara's face told no tales,--her loveliness was unruffled. The clear blue eye, the divine mouth, were evidently studies for Seraphael; he sat and watched her eagerly, even while he answered her. "You look as if you had had breakfast." "Indeed, I am very hungry, and so is my friend Mr. Auchester." "He always looks so, Mademoiselle!" replied the Chevalier, mirthfully, "but I do really think he might be elegant enough to tell me your name: he has forgotten to do so in his embarrassment. I cannot guess whether it be English, French, or German,--Italian, Greek, or Hebrew." "I am called Clara Benette, sir; that is my name." "It is not Benette,--La Benetta benedetta! Carlomein, why hast thou so forgotten? Allow me to congratulate you, Mademoiselle, on possessing the right to be so named. And for this do I give you joy,--that not for your gifts it has been bestowed, nor for that genius which is alone of the possessor, but for that goodness which I now experience, and feel to have been truly ascribed to you." He stood to her and held out his hand; calmly she gave hers to it, and gravely smiled. "Sir, I thank you the more because I _know_ your name. I hope you will excuse me for keeping you so long without your breakfast."