"True; the ranchers have been here many times to see Padre Ignacio about it. Pico has a cloak with a green satin lining which he turns back over his shoulder. He looks like a parrot on a limb. What does Don Geronimo think the governor will do?"
"Don Geronimo is not well enough to be much interested," she replied, sadly.
"But he is mending, doña?"
"Oh, marvellously. There never was such a physician as Padre Ignacio, although Padre Mateo is a good second."
An Indian lad came for the immense dish of meat, lifted it in both hands and ran out, carrying it before him as if he could endure the weight but a little while, and soon must place it or let it drop. He was lithe and quick, but short and undersized as most of his race, his black coarse hair cut squarely midway of his neck.
"He pretends the dish is hot, playing for an excuse to put it down in the next room and cram his mouth full of meat," Borromeo said.
"There is enough," said Magdalena, undisturbed.
"You will sit down and take your refreshment now, doña?"
"I will begin, Borromeo; a woman who is cook to a man never knows when she will finish. You will excuse me when I jump up and quit you now and then without a word."
"It is certain that I know a woman's way in this, doña, if in no other, remembering my mother when she made corn cakes on the griddle for us in the
