u stay?"

"Yes, I can stay, Senorita," answered Alessandro, gravely. "I will stay
so long as you need me."

"Oh, thank you, Alessandro!" Ramona cried. "You are good, to stay. The
Senora will see that it is no loss to you;" and she flew back to the
house.

"It is not for the wages, Senorita," Alessandro began; but Ramona
was gone. She did not hear him, and he turned away with a sense of
humiliation. "I don't want the Senorita to think that it was the money
kept me," he said, turning to Father Salvierderra. "I would not leave
the band for money; it is to help, because they are in trouble, Father."

"Yes, yes, son. I understand that," replied the monk, who had known
Alessandro since he was a little fellow playing in the corridors of San
Luis Rey, the pet of all the Brothers there. "That is quite right of
you, and the Senora will not be insensible of it. It is not for such
things that money can pay. They are indeed in great trouble now, and
only the two women in the house; and I must soon be going on my way
North again."

"Is it sure that Senor Felipe will get well?" asked Alessandro.

"I think so," replied Father Salvierderra. "These relapses are always
worse than the first attack; but I have never known one to die, after
he had the natural sweat to break from the skin, and got good sleep. I
doubt not he will be in his bed, though, for many days, and there will
be much to be seen to. It was an ill luck to have Juan Can laid up,
too, just at this time. I must go and see him; I hear he is in most
rebellious frame of mind, and blasphemes impiously."

"That does he!" said Alessandro. "He swears the saints gave him over to
the fiends to push him off the plank, and he'll have none of them from
this out! I told him to beware, or they might bring him to worse things
yet if he did not mend his speech of them."

Sighing deeply as they walked along, the monk said: "It is but a sign
of the times. Blasphemers are on the highway. The people are being
corrupted. Keeps your father the worship in the chapel still, and does a
priest come often to the village?"

"Only twice a year," replied Alessandro; "and sometimes for a funeral,
if there is money enough to pay for the mass. But my father has the
chapel open, and each Sunday we sing what we know of the mass; and the
people are often there praying."

"Ay, ay! Ever for money!" groaned Father Salvierderra, not heeding the
latter part of the sentence. "Ever for money! It is a shame