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Updated: June 28, 2025
She remonstrated with the little mother, saying that she aimed not to disturb anybody not even Uncle Pros. "Uncle Pros!" Laurella echoed from the hearthstone, where she sat on her heels, like a little girl playing at mud-pies.
"You must come," interposed the little priest; "you never can leave your mother all alone at night. Is it far you have to go?" "To a vineyard by Anacapri." "And I to Capri. So now God bless you, child and you, my son." Laurella kissed his hand, and let one farewell drop, for the padre and Antonio to divide between them.
'Lord Palmerston understood the Eastern question to a certain degree, said Mr. Consul-General Laurella; 'but, had I been in the service of the Queen of England, I could have told him some things; and he mysteriously paused. 'I cannot endure this eternal chatter about Palmerston, said the Emir, rather pettishly. 'Are there no other statesmen in the world besides Palmerston?
She came up with hasty steps, her eyes fixed straight before her. "Ha! l'Arrabiata! good-morning!" shouted one or two of the young boatmen. But for the curato's presence, they might have added more; the look of mute defiance with which the young girl received their welcome appeared to tempt the more mischievous among them. "Good-day, Laurella!" now said the priest; "how are you?
And now they sat together in this boat, like two most deadly enemies, while their hearts were beating fit to kill them. Antonio's usually so good-humored face was heated to scarlet; he struck the oars so sharply that the foam flew over to where Laurella sat, while his lips moved as if muttering angry words.
She sank to her knees beside the bed. "Lost!" she echoed. "Lost gone! Hasn't been seen since Friday morning Friday morning before sunup! Friday, Saturday, Sunday. My God, Mother it's three days and three nights!" "Yes, honey, it's three days and three nights," assented Laurella fearfully. "Gid says he's going up in the mountains with a lot of others to search.
I'm mighty glad to give 'em to yo' little gal. I only wisht," she said wistfully, "that hit was a boy. Ef hit was a boy, mebbe you'd give hit the name that should 'a' went with the clothes. I was a-goin' to call the baby John after hit's pappy." Laurella Consadine lay quiescent for a moment, big black eyes studying the smoky logs that raftered the roof.
And what sound reason can you have to give for rejecting an honest hand, stretched out to help you and your mother? Answer me, Laurella." "I have a reason," she said reluctantly, and speaking low; "but it is one I cannot give." "Not give! not give to me? not to your confessor, whom you surely know to be your friend or is he not?" Laurella nodded. "Then, child, unburden your heart.
Antonio, however, appropriated no part of it to himself; he pulled off his cap exclusively to the padre, without even looking at Laurella.
"He's never thought of me, except as a poor girl who needs help mighty bad; and he's so kind-hearted and generous he's ready to do for each and every that's worthy of it. But not that way mother, you mustn't ever suppose for a minute that he'd think of me in that way." "Well, I wish't I may never!" Laurella exclaimed.
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