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BRUNO. Si sé donde puse la llave, que me.... DOÑA MATILDE. Ya la encontrarás ... no se te olvide nada ... ¿lo entiendes? y yo me voy a lo que dije ... cuidado que es menester que una mujer tenga cabeza para atar tantos cabos.
"Her mother, I should say, told me the girl had been half mad at not being allowed to go and take leave of Miss May; and she had been sorry herself, but her husband had come home suddenly from the search for work, and, having made his arrangements, removed them at once, early the next morning too early to go to the young lady; though, she said, Una did as they passed through Stoneborough run down the street before she was aware, and she found her sobbing, fit to break her heart, before the house."
He seemed deeply to respect her, and Una, who had never had the débutante's privilege of ordering men about, who had avoided Henry Carson and responded to Walter Babson and obeyed chiefs in offices, was now at last demanding that privilege. She developed feminine whims and desires. She asked Mr.
He MIGHT take more trouble for you, seeing you're a minister's daughter." "He'd take every bit as much trouble for you, Mary, I'm sure," said Una. "It doesn't matter whose child you are. You just ask Him and I will, too." "All right," agreed Mary. "It won't do any harm if it doesn't do much good. If you knew Mrs. Wiley as well as I do you wouldn't think God would want to meddle with her.
"She said you would likely have to go back to the asylum." "I thought as much," said Mary drearily. "And then they'll give me out again likely to some one just like Mrs. Wiley. Well, I s'pose I can stand it. I'm tough." "I'm going to pray that you won't have to go back," whispered Una, as she and Mary walked home to the manse. "You can do as you like," said Mary decidedly, "but I vow I won't.
Una arose at six-thirty next morning, to dress the part of the great business woman, and before she went to the office she had her hair waved. Mr. Bob Sidney called for her. He was a simple, energetic soul, with a derby on the back of his head, cheerful, clean-shaven, large-chinned, hoarse-voiced, rapidly revolving a chewed cigar. She, the commonplace, was highly evolved in comparison with Mr.
Honor rose up, and, by two or three simple words, disclosed more forcibly, more touchingly, than any direct exhibition of grief could have done, the inexpressible power of the misery she felt at this eternal separation from her only boy. She seized Una's two hands, and, kissing her lips, said, in tones of the most heart rending pathos "Oh, Una, Una, pity me I am his mother!"
Just think of Lida walking home this very minute with her poor little feet all nice and warm and comfy." "You know you haven't another pair of black cashmere stockings," said Una. "Your other pair were so full of holes that Aunt Martha said she couldn't darn them any more and she cut the legs up for stove dusters. You've nothing but those two pairs of striped stockings you hate so."
DEAR SOPHIA AND MR. HAWTHORNE, I received your letter and read it with attention; then laid it aside, and thought I would not reply, for so much had been said and written about my pamphlet that I was weary of it, and had turned to other things. When my interest revives, I shall probably make reply, but I hope viva voce. Yes! Una alone will be changed; yet still, I think, the same.
"Listen, Faith Mary's crying," she whispered. Faith replied not, being already asleep. Una slipped out of bed, and made her way in her little white gown down the hall and up the garret stairs. The creaking floor gave ample notice of her coming, and when she reached the corner room all was moonlit silence and the trestle bed showed only a hump in the middle. "Mary," whispered Una.
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