er's having ridden to Temecula and back in a night and half a
day, to bring it.

"I wanted to pay the man," she said; "I knew of course your mother would
wish to reward him. But I fancy Alessandro was offended. He answered me
shortly that it was paid, and it was nothing."

"You couldn't have offended him more," said Felipe. "What a pity! He is
as proud as Lucifer himself, that Alessandro. You know his father has
always been the head of their band; in fact, he has authority over
several bands; General, they call it now, since they got the title from
the Americans; they used to call it Chief., and until Father Peyri left
San Luis Rey, Pablo was in charge of all the sheep, and general steward
and paymaster. Father Peyri trusted him with everything; I've heard he
would leave boxes full of uncounted gold in Pablo's charge to pay off
the Indians. Pablo reads and writes, and is very well off; he has as
many sheep as we have, I fancy!"

"What!" exclaimed Ramona, astonished. "They all look as if they were
poor."

"Oh, well, so they are," replied Felipe, "compared with us; but one
reason is, they share everything with each other. Old Pablo feeds and
supports half his village, they say. So long as he has anything, he will
never see one of his Indians hungry."

"How generous!" warmly exclaimed Ramona; "I think they are better than
we are, Felipe!"

"I think so, too," said Felipe. "That's what I have always said. The
Indians are the most generous people in the world. Of course they have
learned it partly from us; but they were very much so when the Fathers
first came here. You ask Father Salvierderra some day. He has read
all Father Junipero's and Father Crespi's diaries, and he says it is
wonderful how the wild savages gave food to every one who came."

"Felipe, you are talking too much," said the Senora's voice, in the
doorway; and as she spoke she looked reproachfully at Ramona. If she
had said in words, "See how unfit you are to be trusted with Felipe. No
wonder I do not leave the room except when I must!" her meaning could
not have been plainer. Ramona felt it keenly, and not without some
misgiving that it was deserved.

"Oh, dear Felipe, has it hurt you?" she said timidly; and to the Senora,
"Indeed, Senora, he has been speaking but a very few moments, very low."

"Go call Alessandro, Ramona, will you?" said Felipe. "Tell him to bring
his violin. I think I will go to sleep if he plays."

A long search Ramona had fo