Ramona was alone with her on the mountain at the time of the baby's birth. Alessandro had gone to the valley, to be gone two days; but Ramona felt no fear. When Alessandro returned, and she laid the child in his arms, she said with a smile, radiant once more, like the old smiles, “See, beloved! The Virgin has forgiven me; she has given us a daughter again!”
But Alessandro did not smile. Looking scrutinizingly into the baby's face, he sighed, and said, “Alas, Majella, her eyes are like mine, not yours!”
“I am glad of it,” cried Ramona. “I was glad the first minute I saw it.”
He shook his head. “It is an ill fate to have the eyes of Alessandro,” he said. “They look ever on woe;” and he laid the baby back on Ramona's breast, and stood gazing sadly at her.
“Dear Alessandro,” said Ramona, “it is a sin to always mourn. Father Salvierderra said if we repined under our crosses, then a heavier cross would be laid on us. Worse things would come.”
“Yes,” he said. “That is true. Worse things will come.” And he walked away, with his head sunk deep on his breast.
