There was a rapt look of holy
communion on her face, which made itself felt by the dullest
perception, and sometimes overawed even where it attracted. It
was the same thing which Aunt Ri had felt, and formulated in her
own humorous fashion. But old Marda put it better, when, one day,
in reply to a half-terrified, low-whispered suggestion of Juan Can,
to the effect that it was "a great pity that Senor Felipe hadn't
married the Senorita years ago,-- what if he were to do it yet?" she
said, also under her breath. "It is my opinion he'd as soon think of
Saint Catharine herself! Not but that it would be a great thing if it
could be!"
And now the thing that the Senora had imagined to herself so often
had come about,-- the presence of a little child in her house, on the
veranda, in the garden, everywhere; the sunny, joyous, blest
presence. But how differently had it come! Not Felipe's child, as
she proudly had pictured, but the child of Ramona: the friendless,
banished Ramona returned now into full honor and peace as the
daughter of the house,-- Ramona, widow of Alessandro.
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