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To her mother it seemed as if she was a very long time coming; but at last her light step fell on the stairs, and she entered quickly. "Madre! How late you are! Where have you been?" "Am I late? I dined at the little restaurant at the top of the hill where the tram passes." "There? But you haven't been there all this time?" "No. Afterwards I took the tram to Posilipo and came home by boat.
But those representations which come under our especial consideration at present, are such as represent the moment in which Mary appears before her Son. The earliest instance of this treatment is a group by Giotto. Dante cites the deportment of the Virgin on this occasion, and her mild reproach, "con atto dolce di madre," as a signal lesson of gentleness and forbearance.
And you may be sure—that will surprise you both—that on the way back—oh, Santa Madre, wasn’t it a long way, too—I wasn’t thinking of any man at sea or on shore in that connection.” “No. And you were not thinking of yourself, either, I suppose,” I said. Speaking was a matter of great effort for me, whether I was too tired or too sleepy, I can’t tell. “No, you were not thinking of yourself.
During the ensuing summer the stump throws out long shoots, and sometimes even bears fruit: I was shown one which had produced as many as twenty-three apples, but this was thought very unusual. An old man near Valdivia illustrated his motto, "Necesidad es la madre del invencion," by giving an account of the several useful things he manufactured from his apples.
We began by brushing them off, but it was of no use, and so we rode with our faces turned to a dim haze of low mountains bounding the plain on the east, and themselves dominated by still another range, the Sierra Madre, so distant as to look like a bank of immovable blue cloud. For miles our plodding seemed to bring them no nearer.
It was stupid of me to ask him. I suppose I acted on impulse without thinking first." "What time is dinner?" "Eight as usual." "I'll lie down and rest and then see how I feel. I'll go now. Nice to be with you again, dearest Madre!" She bent down and kissed her mother's cheek. The touch of her lips just then was not quite pleasant to Mrs. Mansfield.
"The Madre has put you in here, Jack," Carlos explained, "because the room faces east, and will therefore be cool when you turn in at night, while the trees in front shield it from the morning sun. Also it is next to the men's bathroom, and therefore will be handy for your bath, night and morning.
Madre Beatissima, life was hard, and the way of right was the way of the cross how many holy women had found it so! One hand stole to the little crucifix beneath her robe and pressed its roughened surfaces into her breast, for she must not place the sweetness of this earthly love before the duty of the heavenly one.
That evening they were at home. After dinner Claude went to his little room to write some letters, and Charmian read The Hound of Heaven. She decided against it. Beautiful though it was, she considered it too mystic, too religious. She was sure many people could not understand it. "I wish Madre hadn't talked to Claude about it," she thought. "He thinks so much of her opinion.
I shall comfort myself with imagining his punishment. Isabel, do you believe with your heart that Senor Houston and the Americans will be strong enough to kill him?" "Mi madre, I know it." "Then do be a little delighted. How can you bear things with such a provoking indifference? But as Luis is safe " "Chito! Chito! Do not be cruel, mi madre.
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