p were already heavy again with wool, and it was not yet midsummer.
The spring rains had been good; the stream was full, and flowers grew
along its edges thick as in beds.

The baby had thrived; as placid, laughing a little thing as if its
mother had never known sorrow. "One would think she had suckled pain,"
thought Ramona, "so constantly have I grieved this year; but the Virgin
has kept her well."

If prayers could compass it, that would surely have been so; for night
and day the devout, trusting, and contrite Ramona had knelt before the
Madonna and told her golden beads, till they were wellnigh worn smooth
of all their delicate chasing.

At midsummer was to be a fete in the Saboba village, and the San
Bernardino priest would come there. This would be the time to take the
baby down to be christened; this also would be the time to send the
letter to Felipe, enclosed in one to Aunt Ri, who would send it for her
from San Bernardino. Ramona felt half guilty as she sat plotting what
she should say and how she should send it,--she, who had never had in
her loyal, transparent breast one thought secret from Alessandro since
they were wedded. But it was all for his sake. When he was well, he
would thank her.

She wrote the letter with much study and deliberation; her dread of its
being read by the Senora was so great, that it almost paralyzed her pen
as she wrote. More than once she destroyed pages, as being too sacred a
confidence for unloving eyes to read. At last, the day before the fete,
it was done, and safely hidden away. The baby's white robe, finely
wrought in open-work, was also done, and freshly washed and ironed.
No baby would there be at the fete so daintily wrapped as hers; and
Alessandro had at last given his consent that the name should be
Majella. It was a reluctant consent, yielded finally only to please
Ramona; and, contrary to her wont, she had been willing in this instance
to have her own wish fulfilled rather than his. Her heart was set upon
having the seal of baptism added to the name she so loved; and, "If I
were to die," she thought, "how glad Alessandro would be, to have still
a Majella!"

All her preparations were completed, and it was yet not noon. She seated
herself on the veranda to watch for Alessandro, who had been two days
away, and was to have returned the previous evening, to make ready for
the trip to Saboba. She was disquieted at his failure to return at the
appointed time. As the hour