So one day she said to Felipe: "What a voice that Alessandro has,
Felipe. We shall miss his music sorely when he goes, shall we
not?"
"He's not going!" exclaimed Felipe, startled.
"Oh, no, no; not at present. He agreed to stay till Juan Can was
about again; but that will be not more than six weeks now, or
eight, I suppose. You forget how time has flown while you have
been lying here ill, my son."
"True, true!" said Felipe. "Is it really a month already?" and he
sighed.
"Juan Can tells me that the lad has a marvellous knowledge for
one of his years," continued the Senora. "He says he is as skilled
with cattle as with sheep; knows more than any shepherd we have
on the place. He seems wonderfully quiet and well-mannered. I
never saw an Indian who had such behavior."
"Old Pablo is just like him," said Felipe. "It was natural enough,
living so long with Father Peyri. And I've seen other Indians, too,
with a good deal the same manner as Alessandro. It's born in
them."
"I can't bear the idea of Alessandro's going away. But by that time
you will be well and strong," said the Senora; "you would not miss
him then, would you?"
"Yes, I would, too!" said Felipe, pettishly.
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