ology was imperfect.
She entered a lane between the Mission wall and a lighter iron fenced
inclosure, once a part of the garden, but now the appurtenance of a
private dwelling that was reconstructed over the heavy adobe shell of
some forgotten structure of the old ecclesiastical founders. It was
pierced by many windows and openings, and that sunlight and publicity
which the former padres had jealously excluded was now wooed from long
balconies and verandas by the new proprietor, a well to do American.
Elisha Braggs, whose name was generously and euphoniously translated by
his native neighbors into "Don Eliseo," although a heretic, had given
largess to the church in the way of restoring its earthquake-shaken
tower, and in presenting a new organ to its dilapidated choir. He had
further endeared himself to the conservative Spanish population by
introducing no obtrusive improvements; by distributing his means through
the old channels; by apparently inciting no further alien immigration,
but contenting himself to live alone among them, adopting their habits,
customs, and language. A harmless musical taste, and a disposition to
instruct the young boy choristers, was equally balanced by great skill
in horsemanship and the personal management of a ranche of wild cattle
on the inland plains.
Consciously pretty, and prettily conscious in her white-starched,
rose-sprigged muslin, her pink parasol, beribboned gypsy hat, and the
long mane-like curls that swung over her shoulders, Cissy entered the
house and was shown to the large low drawing-room on the ground-floor.
She once more inhaled its hot potpourri fragrance, in which the spice of
the Castilian rose-leaves of the garden was dominant. A few boys, whom
she recognized as the choristers of the Mission and her fellow-pupils,
were already awaiting her with some degree of anxiety and impatience.
This fact, and a certain quick animation that sprang to the blue eyes
of the master of the house as the rose-sprigged frock and long curls
appeared at the doorway, showed that Cissy was clearly the favorite
pupil.
Elisha Braggs was a man of middle age, with a figure somewhat rounded by
the adipose curves of a comfortable life, and an air of fastidiousness
which was, however, occasionally at variance with what seemed to be
his original condition. He greeted Cissy with a certain nervous
overconsciousness of his duties as host and teacher, and then plunged
abruptly into the lesson. It la
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