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Maria was more to be pitied than Julia; for to her the father brought a husband, and the return of the friend most solicitous for her happiness would unite her to the lover, on whom she had chosen that happiness should depend. It was a gloomy prospect, and all she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away she should see something else.
She said apologetically, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm too sick to stay up any longer." Nobody guessed how slight was her hold upon life. When the neighbors came in, after the kindly Carolina custom, she was cheerful enough, but quiet. But then, Maria Champneys was always quiet. There came a day when she was unusually quiet, even for her.
Maria looked across at the dwarf woman, who was looking at her with kindly eyes which yet seemed aloof, and a half-sardonic, half-pleasant smile. Maria thanked her and took the tea, which was excellent, and refreshed her. The maid returned to her seat, facing her mistress. They had finished their luncheon. She leaned back in her chair with a blank expression of face.
But the hatred, too, gathered a more intense expression; and as Savonarola passed up the Por' Santa Maria, Romola could see that some one at an upper window spat upon him.
The artist can always enjoy the great music of his instrument; but an audience wants variety. At the same time an artist cannot play only just what the majority of the audience wants. I have been asked to play Schubert's Ave Maria, or Beethoven's Chorus of Dervishes at every one of my concerts, but I simply cannot play them all the time.
Verily, they are keen as blood-hounds to seek out their prey; and for them are my wounds red, that they may drink. Canst thou not hear them, what they sing?" And they sang, as they went in between the scarlet curtains of the Cathedral door; for the procession was over, and all the roses were strewn: "Ave, verum Corpus, natum De Maria Virgine: Vere passum, immolatum In cruce pro homine!
In another ten minutes they would be at the house, where Maria would open the door, and give him a peculiar contemptuous look the old look largely intensified; and but for the doctor's words, and the promise given, the boy felt that he must have run away down the first side-turning they passed.
We don't know the girl very well, and it won't do." Ida Slome solved the problem with her usual precision and promptness. "Then," said she, "she will have to board at Mrs. White's until we return. There is nothing else to do." It was therefore decided that Maria was to board at Mrs. White's, although it involved some things which were not altogether satisfactory to Ida.
On my former hurried visit to Moulins, as was the case with my predecessor, Arthur Young over a hundred years before, "other occupations" had "driven even Maria and the poplar from my head, and left me no room for the Tombeau de Montmorenci." In other words, I had visited Rome without seeing the Pope. On this second, and more leisurely visit, I had ample opportunity of making up for the omission.
The desired and desirable thing was about to happen. "Get out, you lump, it's Daddy." But Maria, accustomed to her brother's exaggerated language, and knowing it was only right and manly, merely raised her eyes and waited for him to help her out.
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