My Friend Prospero

eucalyptus tree near to Frau Brandt's pavilion,

were graver, even than their wont. She nodded her head, slow

"What is the matter?"

ply, with another portentous

she suggested, making room beside h

lf up. "Something has happened to

at?" She seemed heartlessly ch

what I wish I knew. He has had a

I expect I saw his friend wa

ike a slate-pencil. He is long and thin, and dark and cold, and hard, just like a slate-pencil. He would not stay the night, though we had a bed

Dolores, opening her ey

his head, and saying things in English, which I cannot understand, but I am sure they are sad things and angry things. And he would not eat any dinner,-no, not that much," (Annunzi

e said, on a key consolatory, "Ah, well, he has gone away now, so let us

e her eyes fiercely flashed. ... Next instant, however, her mien entirely changed. Like a light extinguished, all the fierceness went out of her face, making way for what seemed pain and terr

would give him"-she hesitated, struggled, and at last, drawing a deep breath, gritting her teeth, in supreme renunciation-"yes, I would give him my tame kid," she forced herself to pronounce, with a kind of desperate firmness. "But see," she wailed, her little whi

. "My dearest, you mustn't cry like that. Dear little Annunziat

hile long, tremulous convulsions shook her frail little body. Maria Dolores

y with you. Why should you think that God is angry with you? God loves you, dar

g ceased; she looked up, and smiled, smiled radiantly, from a face that was wet and gli

, and touching Annunziata's curls lightly with her lips. "Bu

. "Didn't you notice?" she as

a Dolores. "What wa

he world, and through which the light of Heaven shines on the world. And when the window is open, we feel happy and thankful, and wish to sing and laugh. But when we have done something to make God angry with us, then He sends angels to draw clouds over the window, so that we may be shut out of His sight, and the light of He

her smile there was a look of

imagination. If every time a cloud crosses the sun, you are going to assume the responsibility

ro," she cried, starting up. "I can see the top of his white hat above the rhododendron bushes. He has driven his friend to Cortello, and come home. I must run away, or he will see that I've b