The whole sky was overcast and gray.
"If it were spring, this would mean rain," said Alessandro; "but it
cannot rain, I think, now."
"No!" laughed Ramona, "not till we get our house done. Will it be
of adobe, Alessandro?"
"Dearest Majella, not yet! At first it must be of the tule. They are
very comfortable while it is warm, and before winter I will build
one of adobe."
'Two houses! Wasteful Alessandro! If the tule house is good, I
shall not let you, Alessandro, build another."
Ramona's mirthful moments bewildered Alessandro. To his slower
temperament and saddened nature they seemed preternatural; as if
she were all of a sudden changed into a bird, or some gay creature
outside the pale of human life,-- outside and above it.
"You speak as the birds sing, my Majella," he said slowly. "It was
well to name you Majel; only the wood-dove has not joy in her
voice, as you have. She says only that she loves and waits."
"I say that, too, Alessandro!" replied Ramona, reaching out both
her arms towards him.
The horses were walking slowly, and very close side by side.
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