"*
* The French peasant often thinks half a sentence, and
utters the other half aloud, and so breaks air in the middle
of a thought. Probably Jacintha's whole thought, if we had
the means of knowing it, would have run like this--"Besides,
I have another reason: I could not be so comfortable myself
elsewhere--for, look you"--
Jacintha clasped her hands, and her black eyes shone out warm through
the dew. Riviere's glistened too.
"That is well said," he cried; "it is nobly said: yet, after all, these
are ties that owe their force to the souls they bind. How often have
such bonds round human hearts proved ropes of sand! They grapple YOU
like hooks of steel; because you are steel yourself to the backbone. I
admire you, Jacintha. Such women as you have a great mission in France
just now."
Jacintha shook her head incredulously. "What can we poor women do?"
"Bring forth heroes," cried Publicola with fervor. "Be the mothers of
great men, the Catos and the Gracchi of the future!"
Jacintha smiled. She did not know the Gracchi nor their politics; but
the name rang well.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49