er
visitor. Teresita sat down upon a box and curiously watched the pretty
senora try to make a small, triangular piece of cloth cover a large,
irregular hole in the elbow of the big senor's coat sleeve. Sometimes,
when she turned it so, the hole was nearly covered--except that there
was the frayed rent at the bottom still grinning maliciously up at the
mender.

"'Patch beside patch is neighborly, but patch upon patch is
beggarly!'" quoted Mrs. Jerry, at the moment forgetting that the girl
could not understand.

Whereupon Teresita bethought her of her last night's lesson,
and replied slowly and solemnly: "My dear Mrs. Seem'son,
how--do--you--_do_?"

"Mrs. Seem'son," realizing the underlying friendliness of the
carefully enunciated greeting, flushed with pleasure and for a minute
forgot all about the patch problem.

"Why, honey, you've been learnin' English jest so's you can talk to
me!" She leaned and kissed the girl where the red blood of youth dyed
brightest the Latin duskiness of the cheek. "I wish't you could say
some more. Can't you?"

Teresita could; but her further store of American words related
chiefly to the diet and general well-being of one very small and
very black pup, which was at that moment sleeping luxuriously in the
chimney corner at home; and without the pup the words would be no more
than parrot-chattering. So the senorita shook her head and smiled, and
Mrs. Jerry went back to the problem of the small patch and the large
hole.

Hampered thus by having no common language between them, Teresita
failed absolutely to accomplish her mission.

Mrs. Jerry, hazily guessing at the invitation without realizing any
urgent need of immediate acceptance, shook her head and pointed to her
pitifully few household appurtenances, and tried to make it plain
that she had duties which kept her there in the little camp which she
pathetically called home.

Teresita gathered that the pretty senora did not wish to leave that
great, gaunt hombre who was her husband. So, when she could no longer
conceal her shiverings, and having no hope that the big senor would
understand her any better when he returned with the load of logs he
and the peons were after, she rose and prepared to depart. Surely the
Senor Jack, if he were going to follow, would by this time be coming,
and the hope rather hastened her adieu.

"Adios, amiga mia," she said, her eyes innocently turning from the
Senora Simpson to scan stealthily the nor