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Updated: June 3, 2025
At last Madame Mara was foolish enough to speak to the Elector himself on the subject, her husband in the mean time saying in an arrogant tone, "My wife is at this moment complaining to the Elector an unlucky business for Cannabich; I am sorry for him." But people only burst out laughing in his face.
The muffled woman rose, turned toward the settle, and slowly unwound the long swathes that hid her face: they dropped on the ground, and she stepped over them. The feet of the princess were toward the hearth; Mara went to her head, and turning, stood behind it. Then I saw her face. It was lovely beyond speech white and sad, heart-and-soul sad, but not unhappy, and I knew it never could be unhappy.
Mara regarded him shyly as he talked, blushed uneasily, and drew away from his arm around her, as if this handsome, self-confident young man were being too familiar. In fact, she made apology to go out into the other room to call Mrs. Pennel. Moses looked after her as she went with admiration. "What a little woman she has grown!" he said, naïvely.
During the night and storm, the little Mara had lain sleeping as quietly as if the cruel sea, that had made her an orphan from her birth, were her kind-tempered old grandfather singing her to sleep, as he often did, with a somewhat hoarse voice truly, but with ever an undertone of protecting love.
There were features in this ordeal which it seemed impossible for me to endure, which I could not have endured but for your sympathy and the justice you have done me in your thoughts. Oh, Mara, do not let me err again. You know I love you fondly, but your happiness must be first, now and always.
Golly! how them fish did bite! We stood up to our knees in fish before we'd fished half an hour." Mara, who had always a shy affinity for the Captain, now drew towards him and climbed on his knee. "Did the wind blow very hard?" she said. "What, my little maid?" "Does the wind blow at the Banks?" "Why, yes, my little girl, that it does, sometimes; but then there ain't the least danger.
There is Mara safe also. Poor Mrs. Hunter! she looks death-like to me. You look awfully too. I never saw you so pale and haggard." "Cap'n Bodine, Marse Houghton send you dis," said Jube at his elbow, proffering a glass of wine. The captain turned his startled eyes upon his old employer, who lay just out of earshot of their low tones. "Take it, Hugh," said his cousin earnestly.
Then again he would be lavish in his praise of Sally's beauty, vivacity, and energy, and Mara would join with the most apparently unaffected delight.
"It is such a fine morning," she said, looking out at the window, which showed a waveless expanse of ocean. "I do hope Mara has had a good night." "I'm a-goin' to make her some jelly this very forenoon," said Mrs. Kittridge. "Aunt Roxy was a-tellin' me yesterday that she was a-goin' down to stay at the house regular, for she needed so much done now."
Not a few women in Boston, in like circumstances, would be equally bitter and equally incapable of taking the broad views of an historian. The influence of such a concentrated mind warped almost to the point of monomania, upon a child like Mara, predisposed from birth to share in a similar spirit, can be readily estimated.
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