if it isn't
too much trouble, a bit of ice would improve it."

"Ice? Why, where could I get ice? Sometimes, in the winter, a little
forms along the arroyo, but now--I'm very sorry, indeed. I'd be so glad
to get it if I could."

Mr. Hale swallowed the sickeningly warm liquid with a gulp and hastened
to apologize.

"It wouldn't be good for me if you could. My compliments to your
house-cow, and I'm very grateful for my refreshment. You have a
beautiful home."

"Haven't we? The prettiest in the world, I guess. My father thought
so and my mother loves it. So do we all, but to her it is dearest.
Because, you see, father and she have made it all it is. Please, just let
me move your chair nearer the edge of the porch. So. Now, look away
off to the east. Father said there could be no view more uplifting. He
wished everybody who had to live in cities could see it. He knew it
would make them better men."

Magnificent though it was, Mr. Hale found his small hostess more
interesting than the view.

"Your father----" he began, questioningly.

"Isn't here, now. He passed heavenward a year ago. Since then nothing
seems just the same, and dear mother is often sad and troubled. You
know she wants to carry on all father's experiments, she doesn't want
his 'life work to be wasted,' she says, and Antonio isn't able to
get as much money as he used to be. She tries so bravely not to let it
fret her, and I don't see where she is. She was in the kitchen with
me. We were getting dinner because Wun Lung, the cook, cut his hand,
and Pasqual isn't to be trusted. Of course, he's a good enough boy, can
make beds and such things, but--cook! One must be very dainty to do
that. My mother can cook deliciously! She taught herself everything
and the why of it. When she and father came here they lived in that
tiny adobe away at the end of the second row. Do you see it? By the old
corridor. Their table was a packing box and they had just a little
camping outfit. Now there's all this."

Jessica Trent's sweet face glowed with loving pride in her fair home,
but this was as nothing of the tenderness which filled her eyes as they
now caught sight of a tall woman in black coming over the garden path.

"There she is, my mother!"

Mr. Hale rose as the lady drew near and one glance showed him what
model "Lady Jess" had chosen as a type of that "perfect" breeding
to which the little maid aspired. The mistress of Sobrante was a
real gentlewoman, even tho