"Majella, the chapel is lighted; but that is good!" exclaimed
Alessandro, as they rode into the silent plaza. "Father Gaspara
must be there;" and jumping off his horse, he peered in at the
uncurtained window. "A marriage, Majella, -- a marriage!" he
cried, hastily returning. "This, too, is good fortune. We need not to
wait long."
When the sacristan whispered to Father Gaspara that an Indian
couple had just come in, wishing to be married, the Father
frowned. His supper was waiting; he had been out all day, over at
the old Mission olive-orchard, where he had not found things to his
mind; the Indian man and wife whom he hired to take care of the
few acres the Church yet owned there had been neglecting the
Church lands and trees, to look after their own. The Father was
vexed, tired, and hungry, and the expression with which he
regarded Alessandro and Ramona, as they came towards him, was
one of the least prepossessing of which his dark face was capable.
Ramona, who had never knelt to any priest save the gentle Father
Salvierderra, and who had supposed that all priests must look, at
least, friendly, was shocked at the sight of the impatient visage
confronting her.
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