o live with them. I explained that Elitha had
written us several times asking us to come, but, knowing that grandma
would be displeased, we had not read her those parts of the letters,
lest she forbid our correspondence entirely. I added that we were very
sorry that she could not like those who were dear to us.

Finally, having exhausted information on several subjects, Mrs. Stein
gave me a searching glance, and after a marked silence, continued: "I
don't wonder that you love grandpa and grandma as much as you tell me,
and it is a pity about these other things that aren't pleasant. Don't
you think it would be better for you to live with your sister, and
grandma could have some real German children to live here? She is old,
and can't help liking her own kind of people best."

I did not have an unkind thought in mind, yet I did confess that I
should like to live well and grow up to be like my mother. In
thoughtless chatter I continued, that more nice people came to visit
grandma and to talk with us before the town filled with strangers, and
before Americans lived in the good old Spanish houses, and before the
new churches and homes were built.

She led me to speak of mother, then wondered at my vivid recollections,
since I had parted from her so young. She was very attentive as I told
how Georgia and I spoke of her when we were by ourselves, and that
friends did not let us forget her. I even cited a recent instance, when
the teacher had invited us, and two other young girls, to go to the
Vallejo pear orchard for all the fruit we wished to eat, and when he
offered the money in payment, the old Spanish gentleman in charge said,
"Pay for three."

"But we are five," said the teacher.

Then the Don blessed himself with the sign of the cross, and pointing
to Georgia and me, replied, "Those two are daughters of a sainted
mother, and are always welcome!"

At noon grandma told me that she and the Steins would be ready to go
down town immediately after dinner, and that I must wash the dishes and
finish baking the bread in the round oven. We parted in best of humor,
and I went to work. The dishes and bread received first attention. Then
I scrubbed the brick floor in the milk-house; swept the store-room and
front yard; gathered the eggs, fed the chickens, and rebuilt the fire
for supper. I fancied grandma would be pleased with all I had
accomplished, and laughed to myself as I saw the three coming home
leaning close to each ot