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Now "my poor dead wife" cropped out every other instant in the conversation of the remorseful ranchman. His desires were fulfilled. Luisa gave birth to a boy who bore the name of Julio, and although he did not show in his somewhat sketchy features any striking resemblance to his grandmother, still he had the black hair and eyes and olive skin of a brunette. Welcome! . . . This WAS a grandson!
"Listen," Luisa whispered, "do you not hear them singing 'Halleleujah'?" There were other pictures in the same room, and one especially that interested Andrea. It was Tintoretto's Miracle of St. Mark, and he listened attentively as his father told the story: How a certain pious slave, forbidden to visit and venerate the house of St. Mark, disobeyed the command and went, notwithstanding.
His master, angered, ordered that the poor fellow's eyes be put out. But lo, a miracle stayed the hands of those who were sent to carry out the cruel sentence. The slave was freed, and his master converted. Then Luisa led Maria into another room, saying: "Here is the picture I most wanted you to see, for you are named for the blessed Virgin.
<b>RODRIGUEZ DE TORO, LUISA.</b> Honorable mention, Madrid, 1856, for a picture of "Queen Isabel the Catholic Reading with Doña Beatriz de Galindo"; honorable mention, 1860, for her "Boabdil Returning from Prison." Born in Madrid; a descendant of the Counts of Los Villares, and wife of the Count of Mirasol. Pupil of Cárlos Ribera.
As I stooped down to take up the little Luisa, she still clung close around the neck of her mother, crying for her `mamma' to awake. I saw that her mamma would never wake again. She was lifeless and cold. There was an arrow in her breast.
He went into Don Polycarpo's room and cried 'Fire! Of course the old man ran there, and then we locked him in. Diego had screwed down the window first. Dios de mi vida! but he is terrible, that man! What have I done to be punished with him?" "Thou art too handsome and too cruel, my Luisa. But, in truth, he is an old wild-cat. The saints be praised that he is safe for the night. Did he swear?"
The tearful eyes of her sister were raised at the same time as hers to the figure of the crucified Savior. "Lord, save my son!" . . . When uttering these words, Dona Luisa always saw Julio as he looked in a pale photograph which he had sent his father from the trenches with kepis and military cloak, a gun in his right hand, and his face shadowed by a growing beard.
Even Isabella did not hesitate to write a graceful letter to the man that had driven her dear sister-in-law, whose husband had been forced to flee a second time, from Urbino. The Gonzaga, who were anxious to marry the little hereditary Prince Federico to his daughter Luisa, were endeavoring to secure this end with the help of Francesco Trochio in Rome.
She only sang the coloratura music, though she loved Wagner and dramatic music. Not long before she died she said to me: 'Luisa, always keep to the coloratura music, and the beautiful bel canto singing; do nothing to strain your voice; preserve its velvety quality. Patti's voice went to C sharp, in later years; mine has several tones higher.
The cab was already at the door, and in a few minutes poor Don Paolo was placed in it. The hood was raised, and Maria Luisa got in and sat supporting the drooping head upon her broad bosom. Lucia took the little seat in front, and Gianbattista mounted to the box, after directing the four men to follow in a second cab as fast as they could, to help to carry the priest upstairs.
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