"Ugh, it was awful just the mere look of that phillipene!"

Rowena did not answer. Her faculties were still caked; she had not yet
found her voice. Presently the widow said, a little resentfully:

"Always been used to sleeping together--in-fact, prefer it. And I was
thinking it was to accommodate me. I thought it was very good of them,
whereas a person situated as that young man is--"

"Ma, you oughtn't to begin by getting up a prejudice against him.
I'm sure he is good-hearted and means well. Both of his faces show it."

"I'm not so certain about that. The one on the left--I mean the one on
it's left--hasn't near as good a face, in my opinion, as its brother."

"That's Luigi."

"Yes, Luigi; anyway it's the dark-skinned one; the one that was west of
his brother when they stood in the door. Up to all kinds of mischief and
disobedience when he was a boy, I'll be bound. I lay his mother had
trouble to lay her hand on him when she wanted him. But the one on the
right is as good as gold, I can see that."

"That's Angelo."

"Yes, Angelo, I reckon, though I can't tell t'other from which by their
names, yet awhile. But it's the right-hand one--the blond one. He has
such kind blue eyes, and curly copper hair and fresh complexion--"