"
If prayers could compass it, that would surely have been so; for
night and day the devout, trusting, and contrite Ramona had knelt
before the Madonna and told her golden beads, till they were
wellnigh worn smooth of all their delicate chasing.
At midsummer was to be a fete in the Saboba village, and the San
Bernardino priest would come there. This would be the time to
take the baby down to be christened; this also would be the time to
send the letter to Felipe, enclosed in one to Aunt Ri, who would
send it for her from San Bernardino. Ramona felt half guilty as she
sat plotting what she should say and how she should send it,-- she,
who had never had in her loyal, transparent breast one thought
secret from Alessandro since they were wedded. But it was all for
his sake. When he was well, he would thank her.
She wrote the letter with much study and deliberation; her dread of
its being read by the Senora was so great, that it almost paralyzed
her pen as she wrote. More than once she destroyed pages, as
being too sacred a confidence for unloving eyes to read.
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