"
"I will never speak the word again!" cried Alessandro. "The saints
forbid I should speak to you in the words of that woman!"
"Can't you say Ramona?" she asked.
Alessandro hesitated. He could not have told why it seemed to him
difficult to say Ramona.
"What was that other name, you said you always thought of me
by?" she continued. "The Indian name,-- the name of the dove?"
"Majel," he said. "It is by that name I have oftenest thought of you
since the night I watched all night for you, after you had kissed me,
and two wood-doves were calling and answering each other in the
dark; and I said to myself, that is what my love is like, the
wood-dove: the wood-dove's voice is low like hers, and sweeter
than any other sound in the earth; and the wood-dove is true to one
mate always --" He stopped.
"As I to you, Alessandro," said Ramona, leaning from her horse,
and resting her hand on Alessandro's shoulder.
Baba stopped. He was used to knowing by the most trivial signs
what his mistress wanted; he did not understand this new situation;
no one had ever before, when Ramona was riding him, walked by
his side so close that he touched his shoulders, and rested his hand
in his mane.
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