iles away, and I
could be here at your command almost as much of the time as now. But
if it be wrong to desire a place of my own, which I can plant and
cultivate, and make of it a home, I will not ask it."

"No, Diego," answered the Father, "it is not wrong to wish for such a
thing, nor can I say you nay. I am no longer young, although, I thank
God, still strong to labor for many years yet, I hope, for our Mother
Church. But I shall let you do as you like. You have been a good servant
to me, Diego, and I will not withhold from you your reward."

Diego had selected a piece of ground of about ten acres, situated north
of the mission, and near the foot-hills leading up to a canyon of the
San Gabriel Mountains. A line of shrubs and small trees cut diagonally
across the land, marking the course of a rivulet, which, not a half-mile
farther, lost itself in the light, dry sand of the plain. This tiny
stream would suffice for irrigation, and it was the particular feature
that had decided Diego to choose this place. He at once set about
clearing the land and building the house. With the Father's permission
for everything needed, he soon had a number of neophytes busily at work
making adobes, and building the walls under his supervision. Houses were
quickly built in Nueva California in those days. They were but plain,
simple structures at best, and, at the missions, an unlimited number of
workmen took only a few days to finish one.

Diego and Juana had a grand wedding. Both favorites of the Father, and
Diego, in particular, whom he regarded rather as friend than servant,
the priest made it a holiday, and the mission church was crowded to the
doors, in the morning, at the marriage ceremony. In the afternoon the
Indians and the Mexicans celebrated the day with a bull-fight, horse
racing, and various games and diversions, Mexican and aboriginal. The
day was one long remembered by all the inhabitants of the mission.

The newly wedded couple took up their abode in the tiny adobe house
Diego had built, and began a life of great happiness, little disturbed
by affairs outside their own domain. Life in California, in those days,
was a dolce far niente kind of existence that was most captivating,
although ruffled at times by troubles with the many Indians on all
sides. The days sped by, each one making but the slightest notch in the
span of life. Juana continued her teaching, riding to the mission every
day, where she spent the morning.