Felipe was the only young man she had
known,-- Felipe, her brother since she was five years old.
There were no gayeties in the Senora Moreno's home. Felipe, when
he needed them, went one day's journey, or two, or three, to get
them; went as often as he liked. Ramona never went. How many
times she had longed to go to Santa Barbara, or to Monterey, or
Los Angeles; but to have asked the Senora's permission to
accompany her on some of her now infrequent journeys to these
places would have required more courage than Ramona possessed.
It was now three years since she left the convent school, but she
was still as fresh from the hands of the nuns as on the day when,
with loving tears, they had kissed her in farewell. The few
romances and tales and bits of verse she had read were of the most
innocent and old-fashioned kind, and left her hardly less childlike
than before. This childlikeness, combined with her happy
temperament, had kept her singularly contented in her monotonous
life. She had fed the birds, taken care of the flowers, kept the
chapel in order, helped in light household work, embroidered,
sung, and, as the Senora eight years before had bade her do, said
her prayers and pleased Father Salvierderra.
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