Original (inglés)

CHAPTER II. XANTHE. "Xanthe, Xanthe!" called Semestre, a short time after. "Xanthe! Where is the girl?" The old woman had gone into the garden. Knowing how to use time to advantage, and liking to do two things at once, while looking for her nursling and repeatedly shouting the girl's name, she was gathering vegetables and herbs, on which the dew of early morning still glittered brightly. While thus occupied, she was thinking far more of her favorite's son and the roast meat