"All what brings a price and is overlooked by the Englishmen, this padre will dig up," said Juan Alvara. "He is getting rich from many fields."
"Many fields?"
"Many fields—the church, the little ranch he has picked up, and the game of monte or malilla. He is the new sort of priest they send these days from Catalonia. No one in San Juan confesses now until Padre Sanchez comes past. If the church wins, the Mission will be blown down all the same, so long while some one pay four bits a load for brick. All is much changed. Father Sanchez is another kind—a holy man and of God."
Alvara lifted his sombrero reverently.
"The vaqueros coming with the band of horses from the beach soon," he observed. "We will go to the corrals, and help you to forget the girl—no?"
"I'm not so anxious to forget, I reckon—the girl is only a sort of dream girl. This trip was not so much to forget a girl as to—you remember Teddy, my half-brother?"
"Don Teddy? Sure—he was the life of the valley when he came to San Juan."
"Yes. Well, Teddy's married; he has married the woman who, you said, had the face of some angel."
"Not Angela, the señora who is Don Eduardo's English cousin?"
The other nodded his head grimly.