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Lathrop, Rose Hawthorne, 1851-1926

"Memories of Hawthorne"

Even to the ignorance of error truth can
be beautiful. An extremely attractive little Italian maid, of sixteen
or less, used also to be found on her knees before the crucifix.
Stella was obliged to drive this dark-eyed butterfly to her devotions.
If I discovered her, I had no reverence, and tried unmercifully to
interrupt her soft whispers. Stella's loving revenge for my wickedness
was to give me a tiny wax sleeping Bambino, surrounded by flowers
under a convex glass, whose minute face had a heaven of smiling
forgiveness in it. Often I surreptitiously studied the smile on the
sleeping face. I felt that He loved us even during His sleep; and I
cherished the gaze of shining gladness with which Stella herself had
placed this treasure in my hand, which could so simply quicken
sluggish thought.
To give a clearer glimpse of the villa, which with our life there
became one of the most precious of our memories, and a glimpse also of
one or two people and events, I will insert this letter from my
mother:--
August 14, 1858.
MY DEAR ELIZABETH,--Una and Rose were getting pale for the first time
in their lives, and Mr. Hawthorne was languid and weary of the city
life, and an English lady, a friend of the Brownings, told us of this
villa, which the Count da Montauto wished to let this summer, though
never before, and so we tried for it and got it. It is a most
enchanting situation, and the villa is immensely large and very nice.
We have an old mediaeval tower at the oldest end, in which Savonarola
was confined, and from its summit we have a view which one might dream
of, but seldom see.


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