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 "Borromeo! what a thing to say! As if she were a woman, like me."

"Very much like, very much like, indeed," Borromeo declared, so sincere, so simple in his honest admiration there was no sacrilege in the comparison. Magdalena was not offended. She touched his big thick hand where it lay spread on the bare wood of the table.

"I am only a woman," she said, humble and contrite in her manner and word.

"Padre Ignacio has kept Juan close," said he. "I wanted to go in today to see how he was mending, and give him a little cheer, but he sent me back. Of course he knows best, but it's a lonesome business for a man to stay there in the dark."

"I shall always remember his blue eyes, and the little smile that used to peep out of them. It is a pity!"

"The night he came, doña, do you remember how he looked? He was hairy as a heathen, and a heathen he was, in fact. When he sat eating, and you looked at him kindly, saying something in his favor, he lifted his glass to you. It was as much of a surprise as if I had heard a donkey speak. From the strange creature of that night he has become a Christian as good as any of us."

"He is as sincere in the faith as Padre Ignacio himself."

"Sergeant Olivera would give a leg to be in there at supper with them, hearing what is being said about his demand for our poor burned Juan. Has