He felt discomfited; felt as if he had betrayed
his friend Alessandro, his sister Ramona; as if a strange
complication, network of circumstances, had forced him into a
false position; he did not see what more he could ask, what more
could be asked, of his mother; he did not see, either, that much less
could have been granted to Alessandro and Ramona; he was angry,
wearied, perplexed.
The Senora studied his face. "You do not seem satisfied, Felipe
dear," she said tenderly. "As, indeed, how could you be in this
unfortunate state of affairs? But can you think of anything different
for us to do?"
"No," said Felipe, bitterly. "I can't, that's the worst of it. It is just
turning Ramona out of the house, that's all."
"Felipe! Felipe!" exclaimed the Senora, "how unjust you are to
yourself! You know you would never do that! You know that she
has always had a home here as if she were a daughter; and always
will have, as long as she wishes it. If she chooses to turn her back
on it, and go away, is it our fault? Do not let your pity for this
misguided girl blind you to what is just to yourself and to me.
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