help of Padre
Alejandro and an old friend of his, Jose had work bringing him pay which
appeared absolute wealth to him. The cottage, with its good walls and
roof, its neat rooms and garden, being compared with the mere hut they
had left behind, seemed a palace. For the first few days, indeed, Jovita
was scarce at ease; to feel no necessity for heavy labor, to have food
enough, to be so comfortable, seemed unnatural, as if it might finally
bring disaster. But it was not so with Pepita. All the joy of youth, all
its delights and expectations filled her heart. To be so near the great,
grand city, to look forward to seeing all its splendors, to walk in its
streets, to share in the amusements she had heard of--this was rapture.
If she had been pretty before, she became now ten times prettier; her
lovely eyes grew larger with laughter and wonder and joy; her light
feet almost danced; her color was like that of a damask rose. Each day
brought new innocent happiness to her. When Jose came home from his work
at night, she sat by his side and asked him a thousand questions. Had he
seen the palace--had he seen the king or the queen--what were the people
doing--were the public gardens beautiful?

[Illustration: And then she would take the guitar 010]

And then she would take the guitar, which had belonged to her gay father
in his gayest days, and sit out in the little garden, among the vines
and lemon-trees and oleanders, and play and sing one song after another,
while Jose smoked and rested, and wondered at and delighted in her. It
was she who had inherited all her father's gayety and spirit. Jose had
none of them, and, being slow and simple, had always found her a wonder
and a strange pleasure. She had, indeed, been the one bright thing in
his life, and even her wilfulness had a charm for him. He always gave
way to it and was content. Had she not even once defied the uncle when
no one else would have dared to do it? holding her little head up and
confronting him in such a burst of pretty rage that the old curmudgeon
had been quite quelled for once in his life, and had ever afterward
treated her with a kind of respect, even saying to a neighbor that "the
lad was a fool, but the little devil had something in her, after all."

In all his plannings it was Pepita Jose had thought of first. Madrid
to him was only a sort of setting for Pepita; the clean, comfortable
cottage a home for Pepita; the roses and lemon blossoms she would wea