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The scene she had witnessed, raised in the marchioness a tumult of dreadful emotions. Love, hatred, and jealousy, raged by turns in her heart, and defied all power of controul. Subjected to their alternate violence, she experienced a misery more acute than any she had yet known. Her imagination, invigorated by opposition, heightened to her the graces of Hippolitus; her bosom glowed with more intense passion, and her brain was at length exasperated almost to madness.,

Thus lovely, and thus veiled in obscurity, were the daughters of the noble Mazzini. But they were happy, for they knew not enough of the world seriously to regret the want of its enjoyments, though Julia would sometimes sigh for the airy image which her fancies painted, and a painful curiosity would arise concerning the busy scenes from which she was excluded. A return to her customary amusements, however, would chase the ideal image from her mind, and restore her usual happy complacency. Books, music, and painting, divided the hours of her leisure, and many beautiful summer-evenings were spent in the pavilion, where the refined conversation of madame, the poetry of Tasso, the lute of Julia, and the friendship of Emilia, combined to form a species of happiness, such as elevated and highly susceptible minds are alone capable of receiving or communicating. Madame understood and practised all the graces of conversation, and her young pupils perceived its value, and caught the spirit of its character.,

After having gone deep into the pool, Bob came to the surface, his lungs bursting. One side of his body was numb from the impact of his fall on the surface of the water. Aside from this, he was little the worse for his experience.,

“No need to bother about the Greasers in camp. They won’t make any trouble.” It was the first word spoken by their captive.

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“What can we do?” said Bob, his tone showing his dismay. “Seems like we are in a bad fix. ‘No boat, no can go!’ as the Chinaman says.”,

“And are all the ranchers in on this?”,

“I don’t know,” hesitated the other after a pause. “I reckon it’s mighty kiddish of me but—but I just can’t help it.”,

At this he threw down the boat which was to be so wonderfully graceful and rushed off toward the wharf. How stupid of him to stay at home whittling when the “Goodwill of Luckton” had come!