It instantly occurred to him how much power such circumstances would place in the hands of Mr.Fitzgerald.The thought passed through his mind, "Would he marry Rosabella ?" And he seemed to hear a repetition of the light, careless tones, "Of course not,--she was a quadroon." His uneasiness was too strong to be restrained, and the second day after his arrival he started for New Orleans.
He found the store of his old friend occupied by strangers, who could only repeat what he had already heard.

He rode out to the house where he had passed that never-to-be-forgotten evening.

There all was painfully changed.

The purchasers had refurnished the house with tasteless gewgaws, and the spirit of gracefulness had vanished.

Their unmodulated voices grated on his ear, in contrast with the liquid softness of Rosabella's tones, and the merry, musical tinkling of Floracita's prattle.