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"It would pay off everything, and a great deal more," said the countess. "It was ointment, was it not, aunt?" said Augusta. "I believe so, my dear; something called the ointment of Lebanon, or something of that sort: but there's no doubt about the money." "But how old is she, Rosina?" asked the anxious mother. "About thirty, I suppose; but I don't think that much signifies."
Uncle Gutton it was who had divined from the outset the sort of husband the fair Rosina would come eventually to desire a plain, simple, hard-working, level-headed sort of chap, with no hity-tity nonsense about him: such an one, in short, as Mr. He used the term in no offensive sense.
Rosina remained quietly in her place. "A minute later, and apparently when the Colonel was snug in his couch of straw or hay, he repeated, 'Rosina? "The tone of this second call was even more brutally questioning than the first.
'You silly child! You must go somewhere! 'Yes, I know, said Jimmy, 'but I'd rather not go to Aunt Selina's. 'What is her number in Gloucester Place? asked Miss Rosina. 'I don't know the number, cried Jimmy much more cheerfully, because he thought that as he did not know the number, Miss Rosina could not very well send him to the house. 'What is your aunt's name?
Figaro enters at the conclusion of Rosina's song, and the two are about to exchange confidences when Bartolo enters with Basilio, who confides to the old doctor his suspicion that the unknown lover of Rosina is the Count Almaviva, and suggests that the latter's presence in Seville be made irksome by a few adroitly spread innuendoes against his character.
She had never seen him before; but she had heard of her wealthy cousin from childhood, and knew his history. She knew he had married in early youth an English lady, who had died ten years after, leaving four children a son, Henry, and three daughters, Katherine, Rosina and Eveleen.
Yet Rosina escaped the vulgarity of some who might be called her betters as the world goes by being simply natural. When she was amused she laughed aloud, when she was tired she yawned as openly and flagrantly as any duchess. In manners extremes meet, and the giggle and the sneer are the disastrous half measures of the ill-bred, the social greasers.
"My books are there." "Blue-books," said the Duchess. "And there is plenty of room if you wish to have friends." "I suppose we must have somebody. You can't live without your Mentor." "You can ask whom you please," he said almost fretfully. "Lady Rosina, of course," suggested the Duchess. Then he turned to the papers before him and wouldn't say another word.
Not long after, Rosina enters Dr. Bartolo's library singing the famous cavatina, "Una voce poco fa," in which she tells of her love for Lindoro and proclaims her determination to have her own way in the matter of her heart, in spite of all that her tyrannical guardian or anybody else can do. This cavatina has been the show piece of hundreds of singers ever since it was written.
"To go and shoot arrows?" "No; I don't want you to shoot arrows. You might act the part of host without shooting. Can't you walk about with anybody except Lady Rosina De Courcy?" "I was walking about with Sir Orlando Drought last Sunday, and I very much prefer Lady Rosina." "There has been no quarrel?" asked the Duchess sharply. "Oh dear, no." "Of course he's an empty-headed idiot.
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