"I declare I'll never rest till I've shook you by the hand," and she scrambled out of her chair in a fever of generous enthusiasm, and made for the twins, blind with her tears, and began to shake.

The boy Joe corrected her: "You're shaking the wrong one, ma." This flurried her, but she made a swift change and went on shaking.
"Got the wrong one again, ma," said the boy.
"Oh, shut up, can't you!" said the widow, embarrassed and irritated.
"Give me all your hands, I want to shake them all; for I know you are both just as good as you can be." It was a victorious thought, a master-stroke of diplomacy, though that never occurred to her and she cared nothing for diplomacy.

She shook the four hands in turn cordially, and went back to her place in a state of high and fine exultation that made her look young and handsome.
"Indeed I owe everything to Luigi," said Angelo, affectionately.
"But for him I could not have survived our boyhood days, when we were friendless and poor--ah, so poor! We lived from hand to mouth-lived on the coarse fare of unwilling charity, and for weeks and weeks together not a morsel of food passed my lips, for its character revolted me and I could not eat it.

But for Luigi I should have died.

He ate for us both." "How noble!" sighed Rowena.
"Do you hear that ?" said the widow, severely, to her boys.