After the first headlong half mile, Tejon became the perfect little
saddle-pony which fair weather found him; and Teresita, cheated of her
battle of wills and yet too honest to provoke him deliberately,
began to think a little less of her own whims and more of the Senora
Simpson, housed miserably beneath the canvas covering of the prairie
schooner.
She found Mrs. Jerry sitting inside, with a patchwork quilt over
her shoulders, her eyes holding a shade more of wistfulness and less
twinkle, perhaps, but with her lips quite ready to smile upon her
visitor. Teresita sat down upon a box and curiously watched the pretty
senora try to make a small, triangular piece of cloth cover a large,
irregular hole in the elbow of the big senor's coat sleeve. Sometimes,
when she turned it so, the hole was nearly covered--except that there
was the frayed rent at the bottom still grinning maliciously up at the
mender.
"'Patch beside patch is neighborly, but patch upon patch is
beggarly!'" quoted Mrs. Jerry, at the moment forgetting that the girl
could not understand.
Whereupon Teresita bethought her of her last night's lesson,
and replied slowly and solemnly: "My dear Mrs. Seem'son,
how--do--you--_do_?"
"Mrs. Seem'son," realizing the underlying friendliness of the
carefully enunciated greeting, flushed with pleasure and for a minute
forgot all about the patch problem.
"Why, honey, you've been learnin' English jest so's you can talk to
me!" She leaned and kissed the girl where the red blood of youth dyed
brightest the Latin duskiness of the cheek.
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