about your
staying here."

"Would it be truly a pleasure to the Senorita Ramona, if I stayed?" said
Alessandro.

"You know it would," answered Ramona, frankly, yet with a tremor in her
voice, which Alessandro felt. "I do not see what we could any of us do
without you. Felipe says he shall not let you go."

Alessandro's face glowed. "It must be as my father says, Senorita," he
said. "A messenger came from him yesterday, and I sent him back with a
letter telling him what the Senor Felipe had proposed to me, and asking
him what I should do. My father is very old, Senorita, and I do not see
how he can well spare me. I am his only child, and my mother died years
ago. We live alone together in our house, and when I am away he is very
lonely. But he would like to have me earn the wages, I know, and I hope
he will think it best for me to stay. There are many things we want to
do for the village; most of our people are poor, and can do little more
than get what they need to eat day by day, and my father wishes to see
them better off before he dies. Now that the Americans are coming in all
around us, he is afraid and anxious all the time. He wants to get a big
fence built around our land, so as to show where it is; but the people
cannot take much time to work on the fence; they need all their time to
work for themselves and their families. Indians have a hard time to live
now, Senorita. Were you ever in Temecula?"

"No," said Ramona. "Is it a large town?"

Alessandro sighed. "Dear Senorita, it is not a town; it is only a little
village not more than twenty houses in all, and some of those are built
only of tule. There is a chapel, and a graveyard. We built an adobe wall
around the graveyard last year. That my father said we would do, before
we built the fence round the village."

"How many people are there in the village?" asked Ramona.

"Nearly two hundred, when they are all there; but many of them are away
most of the time. They must go where they can get work; they are
hired by the farmers, or to do work on the great ditches, or to go as
shepherds; and some of them take their wives and children with them. I
do not believe the Senorita has ever seen any very poor people."

"Oh, yes, I have, Alessandro, at Santa Barbara. There were many poor
people there, and the Sisters used to give them food every week."

"Indians?" said Alessandro.

Ramona colored. "Yes," she said, "some of them were, but not like your
men, Aless