quality was coming into his love for her. He himself was returning
to the brother love which he had had for her when they were children
together, and in which he had felt no change until he became a man and
Ramona a woman. It was strange what a peace fell upon Felipe when this
was finally clear and settled in his mind. No doubt he had had more
misgiving and fear about his mother in the matter than he had ever
admitted to himself; perhaps also the consciousness of Ramona's
unfortunate birth had rankled at times; but all this was past now.
Ramona was his sister. He was her brother. What course should he pursue
in the crisis which he saw drawing near? How could he best help Ramona?
What would be best for both her and Alessandro? Long before the thought
of any possible union between himself and Ramona had entered into
Alessandro's mind, still longer before it had entered into Ramona's to
think of Alessandro as a husband, Felipe had spent hours in forecasting,
plotting, and planning for them. For the first time in his life he felt
himself in the dark as to his mother's probable action. That any concern
as to Ramona's personal happiness or welfare would influence her, he
knew better than to think for a moment. So far as that was concerned,
Ramona might wander out the next hour, wife of a homeless beggar,
and his mother would feel no regret. But Ramona had been the adopted
daughter of the Senora Ortegna, bore the Ortegna name, and had lived as
foster-child in the house of the Morenos. Would the Senora permit such a
one to marry an Indian?

Felipe doubted. The longer he thought, the more he doubted. The more
he watched, the more he saw that the question might soon have to be
decided. Any hour might precipitate it. He made plan after plan for
forestalling trouble, for preparing his mother; but Felipe was by nature
indolent, and now he was, in addition, feeble. Day after day slipped by.
It was exceedingly pleasant on the veranda. Ramona was usually with him;
his mother was gentler, less sad, than he had ever seen her. Alessandro
was always at hand, ready for any service,--in the field, in the
house,--his music a delight, his strength and fidelity a repose, his
personal presence always agreeable. "If only my mother could think
it," reflected Felipe, "it would be the best thing, all round, to have
Alessandro stay here as overseer of the place, and then they might be
married. Perhaps before the summer is over she will come to see i