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Jackson, Helen Hunt, 1830-1885

"Ramona"

A more nearly rebellious feeling
than he had supposed himself capable of slowly arose in his heart.
Now he for the first time perceived what terror his mother must
inspire in a girl like Ramona.
"Poor little one!" he thought. "If my mother looked at her as she
did at me just now, I wonder she did not die."
A great storm was going on in the Senora's bosom. Wrath against
Ramona was uppermost in it. In addition to all else, the girl had
now been the cause, or at least the occasion, of Felipe's having, for
the first time in his whole life, angered her beyond her control.
"As if I had not suffered enough by reason of that creature," she
thought bitterly to herself, "without her coming between me and
Felipe!"
But nothing could long come between the Senora and Felipe. Like
a fresh lava-stream flowing down close on the track of its
predecessor, came the rush of the mother's passionate love for her
son close on the passionate anger at his words.
When she lifted her eyes they were full of tears, which it smote
Felipe to see. As she gazed at him, they rolled down her cheeks,
and she said in trembling tones: "Forgive me, my child; I had not
thought anything could make me thus angry with you.


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