ff--my father?"

Jane's voice had rather a feigned lightness as she replied, "You have
everything you want, don't you?" No one but herself knew that for some
time she had been paying Mr. Keene a monthly stipend. He had written
that Lola ought not any longer to be giving her services just for
board. So great a girl must be very handy about a house; and as luck
still evaded him, he confessed that Lola's earnings would considerably
"help him out."

Jane had not combated his views. Many Mexican children younger than
Lola earned a little tending the herds and helping about the fields.
They were usually boys; but Jane did not dwell on this point. She had
never clearly realized, on her own part, those distinctions in labor
which appertain to the sexes; she had herself always done everything
that had to be done, whether it were cooking or plowing. If she had any
choice, it was for pursuits of the field. Therefore, without comment,
she had accepted Mr. Keene's theories as just, and began to pay him
what he said would be "about right."

"Because," said Lola, "I want you to ask him something when you write.
I am over fourteen now. There isn't much more for me to learn in this
school. Senor Juarez and Miss Belton both tell me I ought to go to
Pueblo. Edith May Jonas is going. I should like to study many
things--drawing, for instance. They say I ought to study that. My
mother always said she hoped I would have a chance to learn. And my
father used to say, 'Oh, yes!' that he would soon have money for
everything. And now he has! Will you ask him?"

Jane was dusting the mantel on which Tesuque still sat open-mouthed,
with his bowl. The room had lost its former barren aspect. There was
now a carpet, while muslin shades softened the glare of the Colorado
sun and the view of the sterile hills. Geraniums bloomed on the
window-sills, and some young cottonwoods grew greenly at the door. The
scarlet Navajo blanket, which had been Lola's inheritance from the
prairie-schooner, was spread across a couch, and gave a final note of
warmth and comfort to the low room, now plastered in adobe from ceiling
to floor. Everything that had been done was for Lola's sake, who loved
warmth and color, as do all Southrons.

Tesuque alone, divinely invariable amid so much change, now seemed to
wink the eye at Jane's uncertainty. For Jane knew that there was not
enough money in the bank to pay for a year's schooling at Pueblo. So
far she knew, yet she said