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Turnbull, Mrs. Lawrence

"A Golden Book of Venice"

Later thou wilt
give them to her. Mother, dearest, let me take this rose which thou hast
worn, with thy little word of love--sweet mother----"
"They are fit for a princess, Marco," she said, still toying with the
pearls, apparently unheeding his request; "I chose them with that
thought--since they are for thy bride."
"And she will wear them worthily," Marcantonio answered, flushing, "and
like a queen, for none hath greater dignity, else could I not have
chosen her--I, who have learned a lady's grace by thee, my mother!"
She drew him to her with sudden emotion, for these days had been very
hard for her. "My boy--my boy! Does she love thee well for all thy faith
and devotion--for all that we are yielding her?"
"Madre mia, thou shalt see, if thou wilt let me take thee to her!"
"I had not thought--" she said, and stopped. "Would she not come with
thee?"
Marcantonio walked suddenly away to a window and stepped out on the
balcony for a breath of air; he was beginning to comprehend the under
side of his great joy, and it had come with a shock, on this very day
which he had thought would have been filled with a rush of gladness.


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